Biker Half: The Rewrite
by Doghead Thirteen
Summary: In a world built on lies where nothing is what it seems, dominant lesbian goth Akane Tendo finds herself falling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole accompanied by an aquatranssexual nomad biker, a half Irish guerilla and a private club of crazies...
1. Prologue

**Prescript from the Author:**

Don't bother flaming me, I'll ignore you; if you hate my stories anyway, it's pointless trying to get you to change your mind, so I automatically stop caring about your opinion. Hopefully less people will assume I don't know the canon characters after seeing this new version of the prologue. They're not 'acting out of character', I've intentionally changed the characters. Like it or lump it.

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**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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People react to stress in all manner of ways. The death of a parent can have all sorts of effects on a child's personality; likewise, there are any number of ways to which someone might respond to the death of a spouse.

Take the Tendo family as a case in point. The mother died some years ago. The father, Soun Tendo, never recovered from the loss; he is a broken shell of a man. The eldest daughter withdrew into herself, becoming a barely-aware shadow of a girl. The middle daughter tries to drive the world away by being the most heinous bitch she can, when all she actually wants is for her mother to come back. The youngest treats life as an unending contest; she must be best in everything or her self-esteem crashes.

Now imagine they had responded differently to that loss, in part because the loss itself came about in a different way. Imagine that, instead of the creeping end of cancer, it was violence that had brought an end to Kimiko Tendo's life. Rather than a lump in a breast spreading and reaching the doomed woman's heart, imagine a half-inch chunk of brass-jacketed plastic explosives almost reaching that heart; the dreadful momentary pause as the fuse burns, then the sharp crack of the warhead detonating, followed by the wet dripping of splattered blood and body parts.

Thus died Kimiko Tendo, gunned down for the crime of being wed to the wrong man, using her body to shield her youngest child as her last living act. She soaked up fifteen shells before she expired; that gave her husband time enough to grab the family sword and split the attacker from shoulder to groin. Sirens wailed through the night. Kimiko was pronounced dead at the scene; the monster sub-machine gun that had killed her was whisked away to forensics, but nothing conclusive was ever found out.

The funeral was not an open-casket one. Someone who's been hit by fifteen 50-calibre soft-tipped delayed-fuse high explosive bullets is not a pretty sight.

The father swiftly became a burned-out shell of a man; an embittered, desolate man, concerned only with the safety of his children, almost emotionless, a coldly calculating political manipulator; barely the faintest shadow of the buffoonish-but-caring father of old remained.

The eldest daughter withdrew into herself, becoming a barely-aware shadow of a girl, only able to function with chemical assistance, thanks in no small part to her inability to control the gift her genes had granted her.

The middle daughter tried to drive the world away by becoming the most heinous bitch she could, when all she actually wanted was for her mother to come back… but the youngest wouldn't let her.

The youngest daughter's innocence was crushed in that moment of bloody violence; she became a cynical, twisted outsider, with an absolute lack of respect for the fake authority figures who'd let that happen. She only wanted to be left alone, but the world wouldn't do that; so she responded with her usual passionate intensity, drawing a small group of remarkable people to herself and establishing her own private laws around herself and her friends.

And thus, rather than Soun Tendo the weeping wreck, the result was Soun Tendo the ice-cold mercenary bastard. Rather than Kasumi the motherly home-maker, the result was Kasumi the motherly home-maker who's stoked out her brain on dope most of the time. Rather than Nabiki the Ice Queen, the result was Nabiki the Ice Queen who has a close and caring relationship with her little sister.

And rather than Akane the violent tomboy, the result was Akane the somewhat introverted gun-toting weirdo Sisters of Mercy fan, and her gang of antiestablishment heavy rock misfits.

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**Disclaimer: They say the pen is mightier than the sword, even though it takes a lot more accuracy to kill someone with a single blow using a biro.**

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Why did all that happen? It all began fifteen years before, in a hot stuffy smoke-filled room crowded with some of the most powerful men and women in the universe, with a voice saying, "The only tradition I care for is the one you old men ignore."

"Speak, then. Or still your tongue." Someone at the back of the room shouted.

When the young man spoke, it was in the ancient language; words older than their species, but they rolled off his tongue with fluid ease.

"_They kin ye guard em, let no thing harm em; although ye rule em, also ye serve em_." He said. "The Fifty-Seventh Litany; The Lord's Way, Verse Twenty-Eight. Those people are your children, yet you treat them like disposable tools. They are men and women, able to suffer and scream and bleed and die, and it doesn't matter whether you call it 'Clanwar' or your 'right' or even 'honour'; its madness. I ask you, Lords and Ladies; who watches the watcher? Who gives us our authority? Who has oversight on our actions? Who has the power to tell us, 'Enough'? Nobody. We are nothing but a corrupt relic of the ancient past."

"How dare you, you insolent whelp!" the someone shouted.

"Silence, Daarak." A voice roared, and a huge, powerfully-built figure rose to his feet, his wild mane of dirty brown hair brushing the ceiling as he reached his full height.

"The kid is right." The giant said. "Let me remind you, Lord Daarak, of the time when we were insolent whelps, a time when we were young upstarts. We have become complacent and indolent. We have forgotten that we were once the rebel scum who emerged victorious, bearing the bloodied heads of them that made us. We had such big words and such plans – yet we have become worse than the Hardaks. I say this to you; no more. Clan Areotha shall take up arms only in self-defence and the defence of those who call us friend from this day forth; I, Lord T-Jam Areotha, swear so on my life. No more shall the Tasmanian Werewolves spill innocent blood over some stupid argument or imagined slight. We outwitted ourselves all those thousands of years ago; we gave ourselves no way to relinquish the trappings of power, and we gave our kin no recourse if we became drunk upon it. The kid is right; the time has come that we changed our ways."

"Perhaps we should speak, Lord Asinara." A tall, handsome man dressed in the trappings of a samurai said; he smilled drolly. "I believe much of your little speech was addressed to me, neh?"

"Only in part." Soun Tendo said. "I am aware that it was my father's over-reaction that began the current war."

"And perhaps your calm, rational action might end it. I am aware you came here with my linebearer; perhaps the nucleus of an end to the bloodshed might exist within that simple fact."

Soun inclined his head.

"Perhaps it might, Lord Saotome." He said. "What do you propose?"

"As you are aware, my linebearer was recently wed to a rather impressive young Earther woman; I believe you've had the fortune of meeting her?"

"Impressive indeed." Soun said with a nod.

Lord Akira Saotome chuckled.

"I believe you have, shall we say, acquired yourself a lovely lady to call your own?"

"Indeed. Where is all this leading?"

"Well, as it so happens I have been advised by a very, uh, reliable… seer, shall we say, that it might be provident to Name the first son of Genma Saotome and Nodoka Moroboshi as my Heir. What I propose is this; a linking of sorts between our Clans. If one of your children were to become my future heir's first wife, and their children became the linebearers of both of us, perhaps there might be a lasting peace between our peoples. Perhaps we might be able to pool our resources, so to speak."

Soun frowned thoughtfully.

"I will think about it." he said, resolving to ask Kimiko's opinion.

He did.

She was very enthusiastic about the idea.

Sadly, someone who had overheard that conversation had a bone to pick both with Clan Saotome and with Clan Asinara. That somebody located a suitably violent thug, and dispatched said thug a few years later to track down and exterminate Soun Tendo's family.

The wheel turns, and the galaxy with it.

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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There is of course another side to the story; the Saotome family.

Let's look at Genma Saotome. The overweight patriarch of the family, Mr G Saotome has a tendency to be greedy, dense, short on the planning skills, and very prone to making extremely stupid mistakes.

In many worlds, Genma Saotome is a stupid greedy scumbag. In this world, Genma was just a large dense meat-head with an appetite big enough to feed ten men and a tendency to live in the moment. He had a rather valid reason for all that; after all, he was a bear. That's not a euphemism; Genma was a werebear born as a bear, lived as a bear for several years, then eventually learned to shapeshift and began to find things about the being-a-human game he enjoyed, such as drink, drugs, loud music, and fast motorbikes.

He was a perfectly intelligent and rational bear, and therefore not very good at all at being a human.

As for his wife, Nodoka, she is a honour-obsessed oddity with a katana and a series of truly bizarre sexual deviancies.

How the two met is a long and complex tale involving necromancy, illegal drugs, motorbikes, gun running, slave dealing, a very confused poodle, terrorism, and hotrod minibuses. This tale ended with the two in a bizarre sort of love-hate relationship, and Nodoka becoming a truck driver, which is in itself a strange and violent tale. A couple of years later, Genma's father located Nodoka's grandfather (one Master Happosai Moroboshi with whom you may be acquainted) and managed to persuade the lecherous old ninjitsu master to arrange a marriage between the bone-headed werebear and Happy's favourite granddaughter, which both the newly betrothed had distinctly mixed feelings about. Not long after that, Akira and Genma's mate Soun arrived proposing a certain wedding contract; to which Genma and Nodoka responded with a shrug and a 'Why not?'.

Before long, one thing having led to another and yes there was much booze involved, Nodoka bore twins; a son and a daughter. The son they named Ranma, while the daughter they named Micheru.

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Four years later. A motorbike shop on a backstreet somewhere in Tokyo. Not too far away, Ranma was discovering that he enjoyed being nearly a foot taller than his peers.

"I'm tired, Genma."

The speaker was a certain tall, slender and very handsome man dressed in a formal Japanese kimono, his chiselled jaw clean-shaven, his hair in a Samurai's topknot and a katana at his hip.

The man sat on the far side of the low table was almost but not quite his exact opposite; a heavyset, broad-shouldered, beetle-browed man with a sizeable beergut, a bushy beard and long ragged grey hair, dressed in full motorbike leathers and a T-shirt bearing a Triumph logo.

"My Lord?" he asked, bowing his head in complete contrast to his ferocious outlaw-biker appearance.

The samurai sighed.

"Genma, you of all men have earned the right to use my name… Have you any idea how old I am?"

"I'm not sure, Lord Akira." Genma said.

"You wouldn't be, would you? Once a bear, always a bear. But that's why I'm trusting you with this. You'd no more betray my trust than my sword would turn back the morning tide… Genma, I'm seventy-nine thousand years old and change. I was not born; I was made. I'm from the original batch. A custom-designed, carefully-configured superhuman product built to fulfil certain needs… I'm old, Genma. Old and tired. For seventy-nine thousand years I have led our people… I doubt you can imagine it. You're sixty-two years old… how is your younger son?"

"Ranma grows stronger every day." Genma said, loosing the tense aspect and swelling with a father's pride. "He takes to the Art like a fish to water, and he soaks up my tales of morality like a sponge."

"And his brother?"

Genma sighed.

"I'm afraid Ryoga has inherited his mother's curse, Lord Akira. I teach him everything I can, but as he grows I see less and less of him."

"I see. How do the two brothers regard one another?"

Genma chuckled.

"Ryoga doesn't know how to cope with Ranma. Ranma is adamant that Ryoga is his favourite big brother and best friend, and Ryoga has an isolationist nature; he's a loner, and he doesn't really know how to deal with people, let alone a younger brother who thinks the world of him. They're both good boys; they'll make a strong team."

"And your daughter?"

"Micheru is… Micheru. She keeps her own counsel."

"Understood. Genma… I will trust you to keep this private until you are certain I am dead. Once Ranma is grown, I will let you know each year of my status, and once I have passed away you may tell your family. I trust you, Genma. Of all my descendants, you do not judge me for my history. I am a tired old man, Genma. I am old beyond age, tired beyond sleep. I have ruled our people for seventy-nine thousand years; such a weight is too much for one man's back. Once you judge Ranma to be ready, you and I shall fake my death, and Ranma shall inherit leadership of Clan Saotome… I must do this, for the weight of the galaxy rests heavily upon my back, and I fear that I shall go insane and be the destruction of our ancient Clan."

Genma nodded.

"I understand, My Lord." He said. "I will do your will."

Akira shook his head.

"No, Genma. Don't do 'my will', do what is best for our family. That said, my plan is this…"

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Three months later, someone put a Molotov cocktail through the window of the bike shop, which had the house built on top of it. Fortunately (or unfortunately) the family were away at a biker rally; unfortunately (and there's no two ways of looking at it) young Ryoga's mother was home; she did not escape from the burning building in time.

The family scattered to the winds. Ryoga wandered away, permanently lost. Nodoka began living out her truck's sleeper cab. Genma took the twins on a truly epic gallivant across half the planet in search of martial arts and motorbikes.

Things would have become quite unfortunate for the two children if it wasn't for the intervention of Master Happosai's monastic brother Cherry, and Lord Akira; the dirty old monk wanted a new generation of powerful martial arts perverts to influence, and the Clanlord wanted a competent new leader. This curbed the truly idiotic ideas Genma came up with in the way of training, and instead of being a decade of hardships, the training journey became an extended road trip lined with intoxicants, scantily-clad young ladies, overpowered obnoxiously loud motorcycles, loud music and, of course, martial arts mayhem.

The result was a Ranma who, at the point the Saotomes reached Jusenkyo, was a fairly well-rounded young man with a lot of esoteric skills. He wasn't half the martial artist he could have been, but he had a good chance of talking his way out of fights, and he had a pretty good idea of what the deal was with girls.

Even still, he got cursed – one of the few samples of Genma's lack of foresight that managed to slip past Cherry and Akira.

Thus it was that a pissed-off pint-size readheaded girl, a giant panda with mirrorshades, and a rather resigned violinist and future Senshei of Neptune, all on overengined motorbikess, gatecrashed the yearly Youth Tournament of Arms at the nearby guerrilla village known as Joketsuzo, causing a distinct mess and ushering in the third branch to the coming drama.

They left with a fourth member to their little 'road trip'; a half-Irish Amazon warrior by the name of Xian Pu O'Conner, whose Japanese truly stank. After a chain of events involving grass-track moped drag racing, large quantities of beer, a tramp freighter called the Flying Welshman and a tremendous accident in a spork factory, they returned to Japan, with the next destination being quite simple and obvious:

The Tendo dojo.

Look out, Nerima people. Here's Ranma. He's riding a large unsightly dirty motorcycle with more power than is good for it. He's got a Jusenkyo curse, a Napalm Death T-shirt, a sister who'd look elegant if she was wearing something a little more decorous than biker leathers, a father who thinks beer is for pussies (real men drink vodka and coke, as in cocaine) and a sort-of-girlfriend (who claims to be a wife) with purple hair, chalky skin, the thickest accent on Earth and a somewhat Irish sort of sarcasm.

And he's got trouble in his trail of dust…

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Here is a star. It's a G-type star, somewhat yellow, and a dwarf. On the Galactic Council charts, it's listed as Tars Sahal'dat; the locals call it Sol…

Focus.

Here is a planet, orbiting the star mentioned above. It's an oceanic Atlantis-type planet with useable levels of land, balanced perfectly in the Class 1 life zone, making it ideal for mammalian occupation…

Focus.

Here is an island chain, poised between continent and ocean. Its inhabitants call it Nihon, or the Home Islands…

Focus.

A city, pulsing with life, streaked with a million cars, music blasting from the pores…

Focus.

A dojo compound on a quiet street…

Focus.

Focus.

Click.

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**Welcome Aboard. **

General revision 18/April/07, improvements to formatting.

Further general revision 25/April/07, more improvements to formatting.

Revised 11/6/07, nearly tripled length of this prologue because I'm stuck on the rest of the story. Blargh!


	2. Prologue 2

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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Xian Pu was angry, mourning, and frightened. All at the same time.

She was in her favourite hiding place; the long grass behind Ro Shi's forge. She'd learnt a lot at that forge; she'd learnt to craft blades from raw iron ore.

She'd also learnt to hide away and try to deal with her thoughts.

Ro Shi, the elderly mastersmith, was one of about two Joketsuzoku men allowed to have a female subordinate. That was because he was a mastersmith, able to create weapons no Amazon woman could make. There was great competition between customers; everyone wanted a Ro Shi sword.

Xian Pu was his disciple, because she was the only person he'd ever met who shared his fascination with the behaviour of red-hot steel.

But, right now, she was using the ground behind the forge as a hiding place.

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**Disclaimer: The contents of a cup of coffee are supposed to be hot.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**With thanks to HWSoD, who became the first person to post a comment on the comment board for this version of the fic.**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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Xian Pu felt tears starting to swell up; she angrily wiped them away. Crying would shame her mother; she wasn't going to do that.

"Hey, squirt." A voice said. Looking up, Xian Pu found herself looking at Ru Ki.

Ru Ki was a slave. She'd broken the law; she'd allowed her brother to order her around, so she'd been deemed unworthy. She was still on sale.

Xian Pu glowered at her.

Ru Ki gave Xian Pu a knowing look.

"You're angry, aren't you?" she asked.

Xian Pu thought about that for a few moments, then nodded.

"I thought so. You know your mother was sent out on that suicide mission to get her out the way, don't you?"

Xian Pu nodded vehemently.

"You want payback, don't you?" Ru Ki checked.

Xian Pu nodded again.

Ru Ki sat down beside her.

"Did you know that the laws haven't changed for ten thousand years?"

"I knew that." Xian Pu snapped.

"Sure, we all do. But don't you think they ought to?" Ru Ki asked.

Xian Pu shrugged.

"If the laws changed." Ru Ki said, "Maybe our brothers would be able to make suggestions to us. Maybe we'd be able to be who we want to be."

She paused.

"Maybe no other girl would have to be taken aside and shown the bill for the bullet." Ru Ki said.

Xian Pu levelled her worst glare at the older girl.

"You're not the only one." Ru Ki said. "The Elders sent my mother on a suicide mission too. Then they sentenced me to enslavement because I listened to my big brother. I hate them too, Xian Pu."

"I'm going to kill them." Xian Pu snarled, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Ru Ki awkwardly hugged her, then had a fish around and pulled a wad of black cloth from her pocket.

She handed it to Xian Pu, grinned shyly, and withdrew.

Xian Pu sat there and stewed for a while, then unwadded the cloth.

It was a T-shirt, with one Chinese pictogram emblazoned on the chest.

The pictogram?

Reform.

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**COMING VERY SOON**

General revision 18/April/07, improvements to formatting.

Further general revision 25/April/07, more improvements to formatting.


	3. Chapter 1

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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_When it all comes down the line_

_And the lights they turn to greed_

_And you race off with your tyres screaming_

_Rolling Thunder_

_And the people choke with poison_

_Children cry with fear_

_But you've got your fast bullet_

_One way ticket outta here_

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The last day of school had come.

For Akane Tendo, it had been a long day; first the morning fight, then hours listening to some of the worst teachers on Earth.

But now that was all over; she was walking homewards, the summer stretched out ahead of her, the crisp smell you get after rain in the air, walking towards three months of freedom.

Walking beside her, her elder sister Nabiki caught the smile that flickered across Akane's face. A smile from Akane was an extremely rare thing, and to be savoured. She knew what had brought this one on; Akane loathed school with a vengeance, for all manner of reasons.

The two sisters shared a distinct familiar resemblance, but were otherwise quite unlike. Nabiki was tall, slender, debonair and slightly catlike with a lifetime habit of elegance, while Akane was short, heavyset, slightly androgynous and the most blatant industrogoth in Tokyo. Her choice of clothes ran to leather, myriad buckles, dull metal and mirrorshades.

Neither girl had worn a schooldress in years; Nabiki's had gone by the wayside in favour of a razor-sharp suit, whereas Akane had ditched hers because it didn't go with the steel-reinforced black leather trenchcoat and rock boots.

The reason they got away with it was threefold; first off their father was loaded, second off Nabiki had a talent for blackmail, and last but not least the level of discipline in Furinkan High would require an electron scanning microscope to detect.

They were far from the only ones who'd ditched the uniform; since what was known as the Trebuchet Incident by students and staff alike, nobody had dared to enforce the uniform rules. The faculty had enough trouble getting the goths, the skaters and the trendies (for example) into the same room anyway.

Akane was very proud of the fact that she'd been the one who built the trebuchet, though she refused to take any responsibility for what had happened to the trio of cheerleaders, and whenever anyone mentioned lemon meringue as related to Tatewaki Kuno in front of Akane, they invariably got punched.

It seemed like such an ordinary day…

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**Disclaimer: Inserting electric drills into your rectum may prove painful.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**With thanks to HWSoD, who became the first person to post a comment on the comment board for this version of the fic.**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**Updated to deal with a couple of brain read errors – I could really do with a prereader here…**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 1: In a world gone bad.**

**(In which a heroine is introduced, and a hero arrives)**

The formation of bikes contained four vehicles.

One was basically a big-block Chevvy V8 with a wheel tacked to each end, with the back tyre obviously a van tyre and most of the cycle components being old Honda parts. This vehicle was being ridden with startling success by a somewhat overweight panda; said animal was wearing small round mirrorshades and smoking a cigarette as it rode; it's leg fur was stained almost brown with the filthy water spraying from the soaked tarmac, and the back of it's bike bore so much luggage that the panda was using it as a seat-back.

The second was a skeletal high-performance-looking thing with a very visible supercharger clamped to the side of the engine and an obscene quantity of headlamps tacked to it's yokes; it was ridden by a small, petite, busty figure dressed in vastly too-large black leathers and a full-face crash helmet, from under the back of which sprouted large quantities of wild red hair. A stained old ghetto blaster was amongst the mound of luggage strapped to the back of the bike; an old Iron Maiden album was playing.

The third bike was a dinged-up old Kawasaki trailbike, surmounted by a camouflage-clad purple-haired girl who wasn't wearing a helmet. She was broad-shouldered, somewhat taller than the other, and had an even bigger quantity of junk on the back of her bike. In fact, her bike was towing a trailer composed of a heavily-modified wheelbarrow; this trailer was almost invisible under the mountain of luggage.

The fourth rider was once again a girl, this time tall and willowy. She was dressed in full leathers and full-face helmet; her lid's visor was missing, with a pair of old flying goggles where it should be, and she had long black hair with an odd green hue to it. Her bike was a beat-up Yamaha V-Max which she was riding with one hand, and it bore just as much luggage as any of the others.

The quartet were obviously not in a hurry; skeletal thing, V-Max and trailie riders were obviously quite happy to just follow on behind the V8 thing. In fact, anyone who watched for a few moments could tell that the panda was probably the only one who knew where they were going.

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Rounding the corner of Dog Shit Alley and thus entering the street on which they lived, Akane and Nabiki were now two blocks from home; Nabiki exchanged a cheerful greeting with Mr Yamada (their next door neighbour, an elderly man with a mania for gardening) as they passed.

And then they were walking up the driveway to their house, past their sister's Corvette, past their father's BSA Goldie, and into the porch.

"We're home!" Akane shouted, then clumped her way up the stairs to ditch her schoolbag. This schoolbag was actually an antique German army backpack, but it served it's role perfectly well.

"Family meeting in five minutes." Their father shouted from the living room. Akane and Nabiki exchanged curious looks; it wasn't Saturday, therefore this was completely off schedule.

"Weird." Nabiki remarked, turning into her bedroom and ditching her schoolbag on her bed. A crash and the house shuddering announced Akane depositing her trenchcoat on her bedroom floor; there was some clattering and thuds as the youngest Tendo changed clothes.

Nabiki snorted and followed suit. At school she dressed like an up-and-coming businesswoman. At home, she proverbially let her hair down.

Thus it was that, as they went downstairs for the family meeting, Nabiki was now dressed in a white silk shirt, denim shorts and trainers, while Akane was wearing a black boob-tube, her usual black cargo trousers, bare feet, her dog collar, a Gay Pride wristband and not much else, making the White Zombie tattoo on her left shoulder very visible. She'd also very literally let her hair down; it was out of its usual black velvet ribbon and hanging loosely around her shoulders.

"Heya, sis." She said as they ambled into the living room; this was addressed to the eldest Tendo sister, Kasumi, who shared the family resemblance but looked like she was half asleep and was dressed in a demure housedress.

"Like, hey, sis." Kasumi said, grooving fixedly at the light reflecting onto the ceiling from the koi pond just outside the French window.

Akane and Nabiki gave each other the Kasumi's-stoned-again look.

"Ah, good, we're all here." Their father said. Soun Tendo was a tall, handsome, aristocratic-looking man with long black hair, a bushy moustache and equally bushy eyebrows. He tended to dress in a black martial arts gi, which suited him; at fifty-seven he had a level of physical conditioning a twenty year old would be proud of.

"This letter arrived today." He said. "And then the friend who wrote it phoned while you were at school."

"Let's have a look." Nabiki said; she accepted the letter.

"Tendo." She read. "Bringing Ranma from China. Laters. Genma."

At that moment, Kasumi underwent a remarkable transformation. She stopped staring at the ceiling and fixed Soun with a steely gaze.

"About time." She said. "The girls aren't getting any younger… this Ranma person had better treat them right."

Soun sighed.

"Kimiko dear, Kasumi needs to hear all this too."

Kasumi humphed, then drifted back into stoned bemusement.

"Uh, what?" Nabiki asked, putting two and two together and getting lasagne.

Soun sighed.

"Some years ago," he said, "Before I met your mother, in fact, I was training under a rather… unpleasant master. During training, I met a man by the name of Genma Darez Saotome. Now, you should understand that the Tendo and Saotome families were at the time engaged in a blood feud… things were pretty tense at first, but after a while myself and Genma earned one another's trust, and eventually friendship. At the end of our training, we established a deal to bring an end to the strife between our families. In short, we arranged that our children would marry."

"Dad, count me out." Akane said, a tone of warning in her voice. "You're perfectly aware girl-girl weddings aren't legal in Japan."

Soun gravely inclined his head.

"Genma has three children." He said. "Two sons and a daughter. His eldest son, Ryoga Hibiki, is illegitimate. Ranma and Micheru are twins. I don't know if you remember any of them; you used to play with them. Then Genma's shop burned to the ground; they had to move away. That was thirteen years ago."

Akane slowly shook her head. Nabiki frowned. A deeply puzzled stoned look appeared on Kasumi's face.

"I remember… Ryo-kun… always got lost." She slowly said. "I remember… I used to lead him to school and between classes and back home. And little Ranma and Micheru played with Nabiki and Akane a lot, mostly in… in the sandpit at the back of the bear-man's house."

"How old is this Ryoga guy?" Akane asked.

"He's nineteen." Soun said. "He was born the exact same day as Kasumi, about five minutes before her. They were inseparable… we used to joke they were twins with different parents."

"I guess this Ryoga guy is going to marry Kasumi then?" Akane asked.

Soun gravely shook his head.

"No, Akane. That is unworkable. Ryoga is homosexual."

"… oh." Akane muttered.

"How'd you like, know that, Daddy?" Kasumi asked, drawn partially out of her zone-out by reminiscence.

"I've stayed in contact with Genma's wife, Nodoka Saotome. Ryoga stops past her place whenever he can find it… Do you remember four years ago when the nice young man with the tiger-striped bandana and the pink shirt stopped past for dinner?"

All three girls nodded.

"That was Ryoga." Soun said.

"I _think_ I remember." Kasumi said. She'd been stoned almost the entire time since she was twelve. "But I like, dunno."

"He gave Kasumi that gorgeous silk shirt, didn't he?" Nabiki checked. Soun nodded gravely.

"Yeah, I like, remember." Kasumi mused.

"How come," Nabiki asked, "Ryoga stopped past but the Bear Man and Michie and Ranma didn't?"

The growl of a motorbike was proceeding up the street.

"It's because of the Hibiki family curse." Soun explained. "The Hibiki family have what we call a wild talent; they are uncontrolled teleporters. A Hibiki is capable of getting lost in a room with one door and ending up on the wrong continent."

"So basically one of us has to marry this Ranma person, right?" Nabiki asked.

Soun nodded gravely. "That is the plan." He said. "It will be entirely up to yourselves and Ranma. If necessary, we will pass the contract on to the next generation of our families; neither I nor Genma wish to see our children trapped in a loveless arranged marriage like the one Genma experienced."

The motorbike hove to outside the Tendo compound, and it's engine juddered into silence.

"Fair enough." Nabiki said with a nod. "So it's completely in-the-air until we've had time to get to know Ranma, then?"

Soun inclined his head. "Indeed. And don't sweat it, Akane. There is no pressure on you. I will not have any child of mine forced to fake their own nature!"

"Ni Hao!" a voice said. All four Tendos whipped their heads up to look at the person who was peering in the open French windows.

This person was a short, busty, somewhat stocky figure dressed in baggy camouflage battledress, accessorised with combat boots, webbing and shooter's mitts, with the odd addition of a bunch of gently tinkling brass bells as hair ornaments. She had skin so pale it was almost transparent, deep magenta eyes, and an immense quantity of silky purple hair.

"Xian Pu no expect yous speaks English?" the purple-haired girl asked. She had a sweet soprano voice that bore a near-impenetrable Chinese accent.

"Fluently." Nabiki replied in English. It was a major business language, of course she'd made a point of being fluent in it.

"Talk about luck of the fucking Irish." The purple-haired girl said, a broad grin splitting her face and her voice now stained by a County Down accent as thick as cement. "Top o' the morning to yeh, ma name's Xian Pu O'Conner and I'm a part of Ranma Jaku Saotome's crew. Could yeh loan me a flask of hot water by any chance?"

"… uh, okay. What for?"

"I think it's better that yeh see fer yairself rather than be told, yeh'd think I was daft if I told yeh. I sure wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with ma own two eyes." Xian Pu said with a grin.

"… okay." Nabiki said, then suddenly remembered she was the only English-speaking member of her family. "She says her name's Xian Pu O'Conner, she says she's part of Ranma Jaku Saotome's 'retinue', and she'd like a flask of hot water for a reason she won't tell me because she doesn't think I'd believe it."

"I'll just like, get the like, water, dig?" Kasumi said, lurching to her feet. Xian Pu obviously half got that; she pulled a large Thermos flask out of her back pocket and handed it to Kasumi.

"There yeh go, darlin'." She said.

"Where _is_ Ranma?" Soun asked.

Xian Pu grinned lopsidedly.

"Ranma-Airen no far away." She said. "Ranma here soon. Pops Genma and Ranma-Airen need put petrol in bikes. Xian Pu have plenty petrol, so go on ahead. Sis Micheru have plenty petrol too, but stay behind make sure boys no get in trouble for no woman there… gah, Xian Pu sorry no speak Japanese so good, it twenty-fifth language Xian Pu speak."

"Like, here you like, go, dig?" Kasumi said, ambling back out the kitchen with a kettle in one hand and the now-full flask in the other; she handed the flask to Xian Pu with a visibly stoned grin, then started preparing herself a cup of hash coffee.

"Xian Pu is thank you." Xian Pu said. "Xian Pu need for wait out front, is okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Nabiki offhandedly replied, stopping Kasumi putting any more dope in the coffee – it was already strong enough to knock out a moose.

"Tendo people wait here, is cool?" Xian Pu checked, pointing authoritively at Nabiki, who distractedly nodded as she relieved Kasumi of the kettle.

The Chinese-or-Irish girl winked, and sauntered back towards her bike.

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Five minutes had passed. Xian Pu was smoking a rollie beside her bike while the Tendos drank tea and tried to avoid an argument.

Then the growl of engines announced more bikes coming up the street.

The bikes stopped behind the hedge; there was a pause, and then a procession of machines came into the driveway being wheeled by their riders.

At the front was a thing consisting of a V8 engine, a bunch of old Honda bits and a van wheel, being wheeled by a huge, broad-shouldered, wild-haired, bushy-bearded fat bloke. Next came what seemed to be the bare bones of a bike with anything extraneous thrown away and a shedload of lamps attached to the front, being wheeled by a very tall black-haired guy with muscles like jackhammers. Behind that was a certain V-Max being wheeled by a certain beautiful woman in full leathers. And, at the back, Xian Pu wheeling a specific battered Kawasaki.

Soun shot upright so fast he seemed to levitate.

"GENMA!"

"I take it that guy knows ya, Dad?" the tall guy checked.

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The macho backslapping was over. The insult-swapping was over. Soun and Genma had done their posing, their showing off and their male bonding.

The two of them were now settled in the Tendo living room along with their assorted children, and Xian Pu, who seemed oddly amused.

"Awright, where th' fuck were we?" Genma asked, lighting up a smoke.

Genma was a big guy. He was heavily overweight, but you could see the muscle under the fat – he was this big brawny guy with a thick layer of insulation across the top. His hair was long, wild, grey, and reached the small of his back; his beard reached nearly as far. His eyes were bunched up from too long squinting into the sun, their fringes creased by smile and frown lines; his beetled brow bore thick bushy eyebrows, and his grin was very nearly concealed by his moustache.

In short, he was a mountain of leather and grey hair.

"Introducing our kids?" Soun checked.

Genma frowned and nodded.

"Yeah, somethin' like that." He muttered, bristling his beard.

"Lemme handle this." A certain dark-haired young man said. "Heya, girls. Name's Ranma Jaku Saotome."

Ranma was massive. When upright he stood a touch over six foot ten tall. His forearms were thicker than any Tendo girl's thighs, and it was all raw muscle. His chest rippled with power; his leather jacket and equally leather jeans were strained by the meat they were trying to contain, and his battered Ogri T-shirt was drawn tight across pecs and six-pack. His hair reached below his iron-hard leather-clad butt, and his square jaw bore the ragged beginnings of a beard.

He oozed charisma like a slit throat oozes blood.

"And I am Micheru Lina Saotome." A certain green-black haired girl said, smiling mysteriously and nearly making Akane loose control. Micheru was drop dead gorgeous, and if she'd been wearing anything but biker leathers she would have oozed elegance. She was a classical beauty, with a frame built like a supermodel and a heart-melting smile.

"She's me twin sister an' th' brains outta th' two a' us." Ranma said, dragging Micheru into a one-armed hug she didn't complain about. "Hey, an' this is me retainer-type person, Xian Pu O'Conner."

"Top of the morning to yeh." Xian Pu said.

"Pleased to meet you all." Nabiki said, inclining her head. "I am Nabiki Tendo. This is my younger sister, Akane, and this is my elder sister, Kasumi."

The Saotome group made appropriate pleased-to-meet-you noises.

"So let's get things straight." Ranma said. "Ya know what's goin' on, right? Th' whole marriage contract thingy?"

All three Tendo girls nodded; it was Akane who said something.

"Yeah, and count me out."

"No prob." Ranma told her. He turned his attention to Nabiki and Kasumi; he carefully didn't ogle Akane. "Hey, name's Ranma. Either a' ya wanna go out wiv me some time?"

"Not yet." Nabiki told him. "Let's get to know each other first. Oh, and by the way, that includes why Shan Poo wasn't willing to say what the deal is with hot water, okay?"

Ranma and Genma grimaced at each other. The grimaces gradually drew out into two or three minutes of weird expressions.

"Okay, okay, okay." Ranma finally grumbled. "Let's take the plunge together."

"Agreed." Genma said, nodding firmly and extending a hand; the two of them used each other's hand to haul themselves upright.

Micheru checked the French window was wide open.

Genma and Ranma, loudly singing the Full Metal Jacket candence, marched headlong into the koi pond.

When they came splashing out, Ranma had lost a foot and a half of height, developed red hair and grown a set of sizeable tits, and Genma had become a panda bear.

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Nabiki very doubtfully squeezed Ranma's left tit. The ex-boy was sat in the middle of the room and trying to look Zen; the fact that she had a Tendo sister groping each breast didn't help.

Her right tit was being gingerly groped by Akane while Nabiki dealt with the left.

"What the shit?" Nabiki muttered, flicking a certain nipple.

"She's stacked, sis." Akane muttered.

Ranma rolled her eyes as she brushed the two of them off.

"Th' level a' crypto-lesbian eroticism in here is startin' ta piss me off."

"It's not cryptic, I'm gay." Akane told him. "Is there a problem with that?"

Ranma snorted and bunched her fist under Akane's nose.

"If there is I'll readjust it." She growled, sticking her jaw out and looking a bit like an annoyingly cute Neanderthal. "Me big bro's gayer than a treefull a' monkeys on nitrous an' if there's any fuckin' homophobes around here they gotta deal wiv th' whole Saotome crew, wiv me first an' worst."

Akane gave him one of her rarely-seen smiles.

"Thanks." She said. "I can handle it, but still, thanks… you wanna be friends?"

Ranma grinned.

"Hell yeah, I'd like that. Anyway, anyone gotten some fuckin' hot water?" Ranma grumbled. "Th' less time I spend female th' better."

"What's wrong with being female?" Akane snapped.

"Nothin'. But I'm a bloke." Ranma told her. "I like bein' a bloke an' I don't feel like quittin' bein' a bloke. Plus, I ain't used ta th' way this body balances. Losin' a foot anna half an' growin' tits screws wiv me reflexes. Besides, check this out." She hauled her jacket off (revealing the sleeves were ripped off her T-shirt) and bunched her muscles up, seriously impressing Akane.

"See what I mean? I got less'n half th' muscles in this body." Ranma grumbled.

Akane bunched one arm up the same way, and critically compared them.

"You're made out of raw beef." She said. "And I thought I was butch…"

"Not surprising, really." Micheru remarked. "My bro is the most macho man I've ever met, and definitely the only one who manages to be ultra-macho in a good way."

Ranma gave her an aggravated look that made her giggle.

"I'm going to get the Macho Man some hot water." Nabiki said, musing that today was starting to screw with her mind.

**End: Chapter 1.**

ANNOTATION

In the original version of Biker ½, Akira was intended to be a seriously unpleasant customer; I'll admit it, I screwed it up. Therefore, in this new version I'm trying to make him a much more sympathetic figure.

The Trebuchet Incident is inspired by the Spaghetti Incident from Calvin and Hobbes. No you're not getting a full explanation, I don't know what happened either. It's probably more lurid that way.

Dog Shit Alley is named after the nickname myself and a friend (Mike Futcher) applied to a back alley in Chesterfield. I think you can figure out why we called it that.

Revised 17/April/07, corrected two places where things got doubled up; repeated statement about combat boots in the description of Xian Pu and double-up introductions. I can but claim lack of sleep. Argh.

General revision 18/April/07, improvements to formatting.

Further general revision 25/April/07, more improvements to formatting.


	4. Chapter 2

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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_We serve an old man in a dry season_

_A lighthouse keeper in the desert sun_

_Dreamers of sleepers and white treason_

_We dream of rain and the history of the gun_

_There's a lighthouse in the middle of Prussia_

_A white house in a red square_

_I'm living in films for the sake of Russia_

_A Kino Runner for the DDR_

_And the fifty-two daughters of the revolution_

_Turn the gold to chrome_

_Gift… nothing to loose_

_Stuck inside of Memphis with the mobile home; sing_

_Mother Russia rain down down down_

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Rei Hino, beautiful schoolgirl and foul-tempered trainee shrine maiden, age fourteen, was walking home from school.

She lived at the Cherry Hill shrine with her grandfather, in the centre of Tokyo's Juuban district.

Nerima-level weirdness was therefore almost completely outside her experience. Sure, Juuban experienced a monster attack every week or two, but nothing on the scale of Nerima strangeness.

Thus she was quite nonplussed when she saw the group of vehicles parked at the foot of the steps that led up to the shrine.

Two of them were massive semi tractors, both festooned with acres of chrome, strangely thick windows, and that chunky sharp-angles look normally seen on things military, armoured or both. In particular, the front bumpers were obviously immense slabs of solid metal, reinforced with heavy studs and coated with a thick layer of gleaming chrome. The nearer rig was painted jet black, with 'Yamazaki Distribution' in red on the side of the sleeper cab; the further one was a deep royal blue with 'Saotome Express Haulage' along side of bonnet, cab and sleeper cab. There was a pair of unmarked police cars parked one side of the duo of rigs, but Rei didn't look that close; she was too busy being boggled by the trucks.

"I guess truck drivers need spiritual guidance too." She whispered, walking past the vehicles and beginning to make her way up the long flight of stairs that led to the shrine she called home.

As she arrived at the top of the steps, she realised she could hear someone shouting from the direction of the main shrine building; she frowned and walked thataway.

"She was six fucking months pregnant!" was the first part she managed to make out. "And even still he sent her to spy on the goddamn Surimas! You know what they did to her? I found the body! They'd dosed her with enough wolfsbane to freeze an army, then cut her belly open and threw the baby on a fucking fire! They must have tortured her for hours – there wasn't a square inch of her that wasn't fucking injured, and that son-of-a-bitch wouldn't LET me try to rescue her, even though we knew they had her, until they'd had plenty time to finish her off!"

Rei frowned and stopped beside the door as the shouting continued.

"Gods, man! She was your own daughter and you didn't bat an eyelid when he sent her off on a suicide mission! What the Hell happened to you that turned you into your father's fucking lapdog?"

"I don't have to answer an outcast." Her grandfather stiffly stated.

What the Hell? Rei thought.

"Yes, Mr Hino." A silky-smooth, ice-cold contralto voice interposed. "But you **do** have to answer an Imperial officer."

There was a tense silence.

"Imperial officer?" her grandfather asked.

"You're aware of the Moroboshi family." The woman stated.

"A Moroboshi? Since when were the popinjay's pet killers-"

A gunshot rolled across the shrine.

"If you ever speak of our Emperor like that again, Mr Hino, **it will be the last thing you ever do**." The woman snarled.

"You bitch!" her grandfather choked out.

That was too much for Rei; she flung the door open and barged in.

She immediately found herself looking down the business end of a gun held by a uniformed cop. A tall, lanky denim-clad man saw what was happening, yelled something incoherent and decked the cop with a snap kick.

"Sonoda you jerk!" another man – this one dressed in a bomber jacket and jeans, but holding a police revolver – "That's the girl we're here to rescue."

"Sorry sir." The cop groaned, peeling himself off the floor. "Shit, you didn't need to **kick** me, Mr Yamazaki."

"**Yes I fucking did**." The guy in the denims growled, his attention now completely centred on Rei. He was tall to the tune of about six foot three, as thin as a rail but with a taut musculature, and dressed in a battered short-sleeved denim jacket, denim jeans with the knees reinforced with leather patches, safety boots, a white T-shirt and a baseball cap marked 'Diamond T'.

He was also fairly handsome though thin-faced, and had shoulder length somewhat greasy black hair.

Rei considered the situation. There was a very short, very stocky woman dressed in a blue boiler suit with a beautiful katana strapped across her back; she was holding some kind of overgrown pistol on Rei's grandfather, who looked furious, had a lot of blood on the front of his robes, but seemed to be completely unscathed despite the mess. The due of uniformed cops and the pair of casually-dressed men were likewise holding guns on the elderly priest.

"Who the Hell are you people?" Rei asked, sincerely freaked out.

The man in the denim jacket sighed.

"Typical. The bastard didn't even tell you what I look like."

"Alright, we're all here." One of the guys Rei thought might be plainclothes cops said. "As of 1100 hours today, Mr Kenji Yamazaki has been granted sole custody of his daughter, Miss Rei Hino, by direct Imperial order. In addition, a restraining order has been filed against Mr Jitsuyama Hino, requiring that he stay at least-"

"If Clan Hakkenan can't have her nobody can." Rei's grandfather stated.

Then all Hell broke loose.

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**Disclaimer: People who like Grandpa Hino may get pissed off at this point.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**With thanks to HWSoD, who became the first person to post a comment on the comment board for this version of the fic.**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 2: Renegade Trucker and the Fire Maiden**

**(In which we meet our hero's mother, and her best mate meets his daughter)**

Rei Hino trusted her grandfather intimately. He was the only family she had ever known, and all she'd ever wanted was to see him smile.

So when he suddenly turned into a seven foot tall mix of fox and man, and threw himself at her, the foundation was blown out of her world.

The fox-thing that had been her grandfather was obviously a living weapon. It had long, razor-sharp claws, connected to the ends of powerful-looking arms, and Rei knew a killing blow when she saw one.

Three things got in the way. Firstly, the man in the denim jacket grabbed her and hauled her out the way. Secondly, the cops opened fire, hailing the charging fox-beast with .32 bullets.

And thirdly, the woman in the boiler suit moved, like a tidal wave, rammed her gun into the vulpine creature's mouth, and blew the back of it's head off with two shots spaced so closely they sounded like one. The impact of the slugs blew the creature clean across the room; it bounced off the wall and turned back into her grandfather as the woman finished reloading.

"Bad move, Mr Hino. This set of shells are wolfsbane-tipped. If I shoot you with these, you will not survive the experience." The woman said. "And I've got a soft spot for Yama."

"You… dirty… bitch." The old man hissed, holding his brain in as he gave Rei another tremendous shock; his ravaged skull was reassembling itself.

"Pot, this is kettle. You are black. Tell your father, the Yamazaki family are under Imperial protection, and Toriyama would be better to remember the treaty he signed."

"You haven't heard the last of this." Old Man Hino said, pulling himself to his feet. "Moroboshi or not, you haven't heard the last of this, and neither has your master. Understood?"

The woman sneered.

"Any necessary force, Mr Hino. Now get the Hell out my sight, and if you so much raise a finger to Yama's daughter then fuck the consequences, I'll blow your fucking head clean off."

"Hello, Rei." The man in the denims said. "My God, you look just like your mother… My name's Kenji Yamazaki and I'm your father."

"We'd better get you both out of here, Mr Yamazaki." One of the cops said. "I'll have my men collect Miss Hino's possessions."

Yamazaki nodded tightly.

"I think that's a good idea. Butch?"

The woman snorted.

"Those TAPD pukes can handle the rest of this." She said. "Hey, and Satoshi? Next time, shoot for the head. On a human a shoulder shot is just as likely to be lethal; on a shapeshifter a headshot might at least knock 'em back."

Yamazaki took Rei's shoulder and steered her out; the woman known as Butch backed out after them, keeping Mr Hino covered the whole way.

Halfway down the stairs, she frowned.

"Yama?"

"You okay?" Yamazaki asked.

"I messed up my hands, that's the problem with using K-Hexa 5 hot-loads, the kick's a bastard. There should be a silver hip flask of Bone Repair Potion in my glove compartment." She handed Yamazaki a set of keys. "Couldja get it? It's just I don't think I'll be able to get into the cab."

"No sweat." Yamazaki said. On arriving at the bottom of the steps, he went straight to the blue truck, unlocked the cab, swung up, rooted around, and came out with a silver hip flask.

The woman took a huge slug from it, pocketed it, then started massaging her right hand, pulling faces.

"Damnit, I keep telling Shion to uprate the kick comps when she increases the charge." She said. "Well, I'll be good in a mo. So what's the plan?"

Yamazaki turned round to speak to Rei and finally cottoned on to the state she was in. She was stood there, eyes staring into nowhere, and shaking like a leaf.

"What the…"

Butch critically examined the girl.

"Shellshock." She said. "I'd be surprised if she wasn't shaken up. Seems she's going to need a lot of peace and quiet, and I know just the place to go."

"Shellshock?" Yamazaki asked

"Of a sort." Butch confirmed. "She's had a severe, life-changing shock. Anyone would react to that. From the look of it, Rei has quite a fragile self-image."

"Quit with being analytical and shit, Butch." Yama complained. "Peace and quiet? Man, I live in my truck, how the Hell is that gonna work?"

"Not very well. I have a suggestion… you know where I used to live?"

"That bike shop burned down years ago." Yamazaki said.

Butch shrugged.

"True, but the Tendo dojo next door didn't. There's a marriage contract between my husband's family and the Tendo family; it's Clan-related. My husband will be there some time this month, and our kids are with him; if anyone can get someone out of a fuge state, it's Micheru."

Yama looked at the quivering girl, who had now slumped against the bumper of his truck; she was crying silently, eyes staring into the beyond in a manner scarily reminiscent of a Vietnam veteran he'd met a few years back.

"My truck or yours?" he asked, jerking a thumb at Rei.

"Yours. It's her home now." Butch said.

Yamazaki nodded and touched Rei's shoulder; she didn't respond in the slightest. After a few tries, he unlocked his truck, picked her up, lifted her into the cab, and belted her into the passenger seat, then went round the other side to climb in.

At some level, Rei took note of her surroundings.

The cab was massive. The dash was a mass of dials and switches; more ranged across the roof above the winscreen. The whole interior was lined with furs, and the steering wheel was formed from a length of chain welded into an enormous hoop; the gearshift levers sported T-handles that looked like the throttle levers off fighter aircraft.

A nodding kitsune figurine surmounted the dash to add that final touch.

Yamazaki slotted the keys, and gave them a twist; the engine came to life with an odd sound; first a bogging stuttering noise, then a rough clatter of firings that settled into a heavy throb like an antique aircraft.

"I've got your six, Butch." Yamazaki said into the CB radio.

"Ten-four, Yama. We're not going far." The woman said; another roar from the direction of the other rig announced it firing up.

"Where's the drop?" Yama asked.

"Nerima, on Kosaburo Avenue, north end. Let's roll 'em."

"Ten-four."

With a bellow, the blue truck pulled away; Yama put his monster into first and followed it.

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Akane watched, fascinated, as the water washed over Ranma's hand and his body erupted upwards, muscle and bone flooding in from nowhere; the change took less than half a second, but was so complete it was stunning.

One moment Ranma was a short, petite and slightly stocky girl, the next he was a tower of iron hard muscle that strained the shoulders of his battered leather jacket.

"Wot?" he asked, noticing the way she was staring at him.

"Nothing." She said, faintly embarrassed and annoyed with herself.

Ranma gave her a puzzled look, then turned his attention to the can of beer he'd just been handed.

"Thanks, sis."

"Want one?" Micheru offered, holding a can out to Akane, who accepted it with a mental shrug; only Kasumi turned down the offer as Micheru handed cans round then opened one and settled herself on one end of the sofa.

"So anyway, th' big question on me mind right now is, where we all gonna sleep?" Ranma said, taking a slug of beer.

"We have two spare rooms." Kasumi said, popping out of her zone-out. "One's full of junk, but I guess I can shift that to the basement."

"We really need a third." Soun remarked, frowning.

"Extension?" Genma asked.

"This is a listed building." Soun told him. "You wouldn't believe what a pain getting planning permission to alter it would be."

Ranma frowned, stood up, and walked outside. A few moments later, he was back inside with a grin on his face.

"I got a solution." He said, sounding distinctly smug.

"Oh yeah?" Genma grunted.

Ranma smirked and pointed towards the back of the house.

"Th' empty lot th' bike shop wuz in is still there." He said. "An' knowin' ya, Dad, ya ain't sold it. Am I right or am I right?"

Genma slowly nodded.

"Yeah." He said. "Look, Ranma. That site's fer when we rebuild the bike shop."

"I know that, Dad. But get this, what we do is rebuild th' bike shop soon as pos, an' build it so there's a house on top! An' we link it ta this house wiv a covered walkway, right? An' there'll be space fer Mum ta park up her rig, an' fer our bikes, an' we can get proper machine tools, an' a forge fer Xian Pu, an' a studio fer Michie, an' spare rooms, an' anything else, pretty much."

Genma slowly nodded.

"We've got enough money." He said.

"Sorted!" Ranma crowed, and bolted back outside; he was back a few moments later, carrying one of the items of luggage that'd been strapped to the back of his bike. This was a battered grey suitcase; he ditched it in the middle of the floor and hauled it open, rummaged around, and came out with a partially-used graph paper pad and a handful of draftsman's tools.

Finally he tossed a tape measure to Genma, and the two of them went roaring out the back of the house, leaving some slightly shellshocked Tendos being watched amusedly by the female members of the Saotome crew.

"What the fuck was that?" Akane asked.

Micheru giggled.

"When one of them gets enthusiastic about something, the other catches it and gets just as enthusiastic, then the enthusiasm feeds back, getting more excitable each time. The result is what you just saw; Dad and Ranma go zooming off to make something or plan something and in the process they manage to be too much for anyone who isn't used to them."

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Ranma and Genma came roaring back in about ten minutes later; the Tendos had spent the time making small talk with Micheru, which Xian Pu did her level best to follow in her fractured Japanese. Akane had examined Ranma's graph paper pad, finding it full of technical drawings and specifications for machine parts, not all of them for motorbikes.

Ranma was carrying a sheet of paper covered in notes; he proceeded to map out the area between the back of the Tendo house and the perimeter wall, and the lot with the burned-out building the other side of said wall.

He, Micheru and Genma then dug in to designing a building, spending most of the time cackling gleefully and swapping insults and suggestions in several languages, most of which the Tendos couldn't identify; it took them another twenty minutes to get a plan they liked, at which stage Ranma removed the plans from his pad, and Genma went roaring off on his bike with said plans tucked into his jacket pocket (and a full Thermos flask jammed in front of the seat 'just in case'.)

"So anyway," Ranma said, unerringly back on track, "That's that arranged."

"Gee, what are we gonna do now Brain?" Micheru asked.

"Same thing we do every day." Ranma said, unerringly back off track. "**Try ta take over th' world**… Are ya ponderin' what I'm ponderin'?"

"I think so Brain, but this time you wear the tutu." Micheru said without missing a beat; the two of them cackled a bit, then slumped back on the sofa with arms draped over each other's shoulders.

"Goddamn I love the feelin' o' a job well done." Ranma stated.

"You reckon?" Micheru asked.

"No sweat." Ranma assured.

"Great." Micheru said, nodding.

"Yeah, so then," Ranma enthused.

"I getcha. But…?" Micheru asked.

"Good question." Ranma said, scratching his chin.

"Me neither." Micheru said with a sigh; the two lapsed into silence.

"…what was all that about?" Akane blankly asked.

Ranma shrugged. "Just discussin' gettin' th' bike shop goin' again."

"Problem is it's thirteen years since something had the Saotome Custom Cycles name attached… jeez, I can hardly believe we were just four when the bike shop burned down."

Ranma nodded gloomily.

"Time's a weird thing." He said.

"Oh come on!" Akane complained. "You were like 'Yeah, but… no, but… yeah, but…' You weren't discussing anything!"

Ranma and Micheru shared a confused look.

"So." Micheru said.

There was a thoughtful silence.

"Yeah, I reckon." Ranma replied.

"I guess."

"Alright fer some."

"No."

"Why's that?"

"Because, y'know."

"Yeah."

The twins lapsed back into silence.

Akane felt her brain beginning to melt.

"AAAAAAAAAAARGH!" she affirmed.

"Akane no stress out." Xian Pu said, patting her shoulder. "Ranma-airen and Sis Micheru do all time. Akane get used it soon."

"Do what?" Ranma and Micheru chorused, sounding bemused.

"Have chat with not use most words." Xian Pu told them.

"Well, why waste time with them when we already know what each other mean?" Micheru asked, still confused.

"You know each other **that** well?" Nabiki asked.

Ranma gave her a funny look.

"Uh, well, we ain't spent more'n eight hours apart since we wuz born. We've never had a secret from each other. We share everythin'. I couldn't live wivout Micheru. She's my reason ta get outta bed in th' mornin'."

Micheru nodded seriously.

"I love Ranma." She said. "And I always will. Sometimes I think I know him better than I know myself."

"I **know** I know Michie better'n I know meself." Ranma put in.

"In a very real way, we're a part of each other. It only takes like two or three words, maybe a frown or a shrug, and I know what Ranma's thinking."

"Same here, but th' other way round." Ranma said. "Ya know that twin telepathy thing? It ain't telepathy. It's knowin' exactly how each other think."

"It's me knowing how Ranma thinks better than I know how I think. It's Ranma knowing every nuance, every twist, every turn of my mind." Micheru carried on. "I don't know how you guys manage without someone who knows you that well."

"That's why I ain't so good wiv talkin'. It's only really Dad an' Ryoga I talk wiv more'n th' way me an' Michie talk." Ranma said, shrugging. "An' ya gotta communicate inna way th' people yer talkin' to are gonna understand. Ryoga's a great guy, but he ain't that bright. Dad's… well, Dad. Dependable as a BMW an' thick as two short planks. Course, Michie done school, so she gotten th' chance ta get good at talkin' ta people who ain't us."

"You've never been to school?" Nabiki asked, shocked.

Micheru glared at her.

"I graduated from high school at age twelve." she said. "By the time I was fourteen, I'd already earned a college diploma. I'm a professional concert violinist, regarded as one of the rising stars of the music world. 'Gifted', 'Brilliant' and 'Genius' are terms that gets bandied about a lot when people talk about me." She paused, her expression becoming distant. "So, when I tell you that my brother makes me feel like an **idiot toddler**, I'd like you to at least start to comprehend exactly what I am talking about."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. Akane looked slightly frightened.

"C'mon, sis. I ain't th' one who recorded an album wiv Tokyo Symphony Orchestra at age ten." Ranma pointed out.

"Yeah, and I'm not the one who built a high-performance motorbike out of found or home-made parts at age nine." Micheru informed him.

"An' I ain't the beautiful one." Ranma said. Micheru grinned and kissed his cheek.

"Love you, bro."

"Love ya, sis."

"In amazing times we live." Nabiki muttered, deciding to ask Micheru about Ranma later when he wasn't about, and vice versa with asking Ranma about Micheru when she wasn't about.

She was starting to get the unfamiliar feeling of being near her intellectual equals, and she wasn't sure whether she liked it or not.

**End – Chapter 2.**

Revised 17/ April /07, corrected a spelling mistake, 'Convert' instead of 'Concert'. Duh.

General revision 18/April/07, improvements to formatting.

Further general revision 25/April/07, more improvements to formatting.

AN – Who the Hell is responsible for that stupid Hollywoodism about shooting someone in the shoulder being 'a flesh wound'? It's a complicated joint and contains several major blood vessels, and you're going to put a chunk of metal into it at over a thousand feet per second and expect it not to maim the poor bastard? Way to go, asshole! Guns are seriously fucking scary, and when someone gets hit by a bullet they are probably going to be very permanently damaged irrespective of where the shot hit them. Whoever came out with that 'flesh wound' crap deserves to be taken out and shot in the shoulder, or maybe someplace else liable to make them slowly bleed to death, such as the leg – another popular location for 'flesh wounds'.


	5. Chapter 3

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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_Come on_

_Come on and see_

_Come on and see the love_

_Come on_

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Most of the Saotomes and Tendos were lounging around in the living room, the exceptions being Genma, who was on the phone, and Kasumi, who'd vanished into the kitchen muttering something about penguins.

"We might as well unpack." Micheru suddenly said.

"Hnrk?" Asked Ranma, or at least something that sounded like that.

Micheru rolled her eyes at him.

"Kasumi set up beds for us in the spare rooms while you and Dad were designing a house." She said.

"Ah." Ranma contemplated that for a moment, finished his beer, and stood up. "Right, let's rock."

The two present-and-taking-notice Tendos (ie Akane and Nabiki) contemplated the Saotome family dynamic as Ranma, Micheru and Xian Pu headed off towards their bikes.

Neither of the younger two Tendo girls had missed the fact that Micheru and Xian Pu were deferring to Ranma in everything.

Hell, even the boy's father was deferring to him.

Nabiki waggled her eyebrows then jerked her head in the direction of the stairs. Akane rolled her head to one side, then jerked it in the direction of the basement; Nabiki sighed, and the two girls got up and headed for the basement.

That lot was Tendo Sisters Sign Language for 'We need to talk; my room?' times 'nah, my workshop.' times 'oh, alright then'. Tendo Sisters Sign Language (TSSL for short, sometimes called Tassel) was Nabiki Tendo's proudest invention, despite the fact Akane had co-authored it.

They used it to communicate information in front of people they didn't want to hear, such as their father or Akane's unwanted suitors. They hadn't shared it with Kasumi for fairly obvious reasons, mostly the absence of a chance of the eldest Tendo sister understanding what was going on.

Arriving in the basement, Nabiki amusedly watched as Akane scanned for observers then sidled behind a pile of boxes of old junk, indicating Nabiki to follow. Nabiki was sworn to secrecy concerning Akane's workshop; it was a lot of things to the youngest Tendo. Her private space and the place where she worked her craft, just for starters.

Nabiki had a lot of reservations, but Akane had shown she'd got some of their mother's smarts when she'd pointed out she knew about a couple of Nabiki's vices that their father would make the most Godawful fuss about, and the sisters had agreed to keep one another's secrets.

"You wanted to talk?" Akane asked as soon as she was certain they hadn't been followed, settling herself on the sofa.

Nabiki sat down the other end of said sofa, once again bemused by the change in Akane here in this place. Outside, she was a pale ghost, slipping quietly through life, just wanting to be left alone.

In here she was the absolute ruler of all she surveyed.

"Yeah. You noticed certain Saotome family dynamics, didn't you?"

Akane raised an eyebrow.

"What do you take me for?" she snapped.

Nabiki sighed and looked at the ceiling.

"It's not like that. I just wanted to know, considering your, uh, your hobbies, well… what do you think?"

Akane stood up, briskly strode to the centre of the room, wheeled round, rested a hand on her table saw, and smiled.

"Nabiki, do you really need to use euphemisms to describe my relationship when you're in this place?" She gestured expansively at the room.

Nabiki sighed again and likewise stood up.

"Akane, I'd like you to accept that I am not entirely comfortable with the fact that my naïve little sister grew up and turned into a dominant lesbian who makes guns from scrap metal for the sheer fun of it and has two of the hottest girls in the school going around wearing collars marked 'Property of Akane Tendo' around their necks."

Akane grinned; it was her cheeky grin.

"Fair enough." She said, sitting on her lathe. "Personally, I find your mania for details annoying, but let's not get into that, you want to know what I think about the Saotomes. Well, I want to get into Shampoo's pants. Micheru's just as hot but she seems kinda distant, like she's waiting for someone she hasn't met yet. Ranma's exactly the sort of guy who normally really pisses me off but for some reason he doesn't piss me off, which is beginning to creep me out. Genma's a fat old bike mechanic with no sense of style."

"I was wanting to know what you think about the way when Ranma says something they all fall in line." Nabiki acidicly remarked.

Akane glared at her.

"Nabiki, I've not got a mind like a scientific calculator, but that doesn't mean I'm an idiot. I know that's what you want to talk about. What I'm trying to get through to you is that I don't **care**. So they follow that Ranma guy around like sheep? Lucky Ranma, he's got some sheeple."

Nabiki frowned.

"I hoped you'd have something in-depth to say about it." She said.

"Oh, I get it." Akane said, starting strutting around in front of the sofa and putting on a mock-psychologist note. "You don't know what to make of it so you decided to pass the buck."

"Pretty much, yeah. You know what the guys at school say about me, that if anyone fucked me I'd freeze his dick off." Nabiki said. "Ranma is a hunk. You're gay and Kasumi's… well, Kasumi. I'm wondering if this is my chance to get shot of the Ice Queen reputation."

"You put a lot of work into building that rep." Akane said, sitting back down beside Nabiki.

"I know, and now watching you with the Goth Squad and your girlfriends, and just now watching Ranma with his sister and Shampoo and his dad, I've realised I don't actually have any **friends**. I've just got business contacts. Okay, there's you, but that's different; you're my sister." She groaned. "Shit, sis. How do you always get me to open up?"

"Because I'm the only person you never closed off, because when you tried I refused to let you." Akane told her. "And I refused to let you because you're one of my barmy big sisters and you're not the only Tendo who'd do anything to defend her family… The Ice Queen's got you trapped, hasn't she?"

"Yes." Nabiki confessed. "It's cold and lonely in this armour."

Akane hugged her.

"I believe in you, sis. I know the real Nabiki Tendo, and I know the real Nabiki Tendo is someone who deserves friendship."

"Don't ever become a psychiatrist, Akane. You'd be far too good at it." Nabiki said, then sighed again. "The thing that's got me worried is, it's obvious he's sleeping with that Shampoo person, and I can't help but wonder if getting involved with him would turn me into a – what did you call it? Sheeple."

Akane laughed.

"Look at it this way, sis. With two girls of **that** quality following him around there's got to be a good reason…"

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**Disclaimer: Caution! Low flying sheep!**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**With thanks to Fartan, YHabiki, jacketslacker and ryuma, who've added this story to their alerts list.**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 3: Wayward Son.**

**(In which our hero meets his mother, and a tense situation occurs)**

There was a lot of crashing and banging going on upstairs when the two girls came out the basement; they shared a doubtful look, and went back to what they'd been doing; reading books.

Xian Pu came roaring down the stairs four steps at a time, slipped at the bottom, rolled onto her feet in a letter-perfect breakfall and charged outside. She'd ditched the battledress, revealing a scruffy black tank-top and a set of those shorts that are so short they're basically glorified panties.

"If she bounced any more she'd give herself black eyes." Akane remarked.

Xian Pu went stampeding back upstairs with a pair of old ammunition boxes under her arms and a battered suitcase on her head.

"I have to wonder how they fit so much luggage on four bikes." Nabiki said.

Xian Pu went sailing past in a long arcing leap from halfway down the stairs.

"Good question."

Xian Pu came careering back into the house, this time carrying no less than three guitar cases and a beat-up guitar amp.

"Odd." Akane said.

And back down she comes, jumping the entire way downstairs in one leap.

"What's odd?" Nabiki asked.

Upstairs goes the Amazon with a huge bundle of tool rolls.

"Shampoo doesn't seem like the type to wear a dog collar."

Back down, this time cartwheeling.

Nabiki raised an eyebrow.

"Pot. Kettle. Black, Akane."

Xian Pu went zooming back upstairs bearing one small overnight bag and shouting "Is everything now!"

"I suppose you're right." Akane said. "I'm a fine one to talk about anyone's choice of clothes, aren't I?"

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Unknown to everyone else in the house (except Kasumi) Genma had finished his phone call and was now stood by the phone with a pensive look beneath his beard.

"Wouldn't you laugh if your head exploded?" Kasumi mused, critically examining the notice board. "Bummer man, we're out of noodles."

The only reason Genma was in the kitchen was because said room housed the telephone.

He finally made his mind up, nodded at Kasumi, and slouched out to his bike, just in time to see Xian Pu go roaring back inside yelling about that being everything; you could actually see the shape of the rear halves of the kids bikes again, which made Genma grin.

He had a quick fish around in his bike's tank bag, coming out with a slim cellphone composed of brushed black metal.

He thumbed a few buttons, held it to his ear, and waited while it connected through, a dastardly gleam in his eyes the whole time.

A contralto voice with a soft, lilting accent answered, speaking a language Genma hadn't used in several years.

"Latha math, a' freagairt Usieach."

"'S Ghaeddan, an do mise?" He asked.

"A Ghaeddan!" The girl at the other end of the connection started gabbling off a whole string of slightly incoherent questions.

Over at the house, Kasumi listened unobserved to Genma's conversation, aided by the fact she was standing just inside the side door to the kitchen, which was the room the chubby biker would expect her to be in.

"Interesting." She whispered. "Very interesting."

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The crashing and banging continued for about ten minutes before the trio came stomping down the stairs just as an exceedingly smug looking Genma sauntered into the house.

"I don't trust that expression." Ranma stated, seeing his father.

"It's a naughty expression and it ought to be kicked up the backside." Micheru supplied, wagging a finger.

Genma snorted.

"I'm gonna get somea me gear unloaded an' getta bath."

"Dibs on second bath!" Micheru chirped in. Genma grinned at her, then went stomping out towards his bike as the trio sprawled themselves across the sofa.

There was a brief silence.

"OK, so what are we gonna do?" Micheru asked.

"I dunno, wadda ya wanna do?" Ranma asked.

"I dunno." Micheru said. "What do **you** wanna do?"

They continued in that vein, back and forth, for nearly three minutes, then lapsed into silence.

Ranma then noticed Nabiki's what-the-fuck expression.

"Wot?" he asked.

"You," Nabiki informed him, "Are **bizarre**."

Ranma waggled his eyebrows just as the rumble of a big diesel engine started becoming audible.

"Sounds like yer mother's comin'." Genma said, stopping halfway back in the door. "Think she's got company."

A pair of big diesel engines hove to outside the entrance to the house; truck brakes hissed, then the engines switched off. The trucks were partially visible over the hedge due to sheer height; the roof-mounted air dams and the towering chrome exhausts were definitely visible.

"Funny." Genma said. "I hadn't got round ta lettin' yer mother know we're back in th' country."

"Where does your wife live?" Nabiki asked him.

Genma snorted. "That truck a' hers ain't just a rig, it's a fuckin' Winnebago. More mod cons in that sleeper cab than in a fuckin' nice camper van."

"I get the idea." Nabiki said, contemplating the two sets of exhaust stacks. "I wonder who's driving the other truck?"

Genma shrugged. "Nodoka's gotten a buncha truckie pals." He said. "Them express truckers stick tagether, an' she's th' Grand Dame a' th' Japanese independent haulage business."

Three people came round the corner into the Tendo driveway. One of them was obviously Ranma's mother, partly because of familial resemblance and partly because she momentarily stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the bikes, but mostly because the other two were a tall skinny denim-clad guy and a teenage girl in a school uniform, being half carried by the guy in the denims because she wasn't even trying to walk.

Genma stuck his head back out the door.

"Hi honey, I'm home." He said.

The short stocky woman with the red-brown hair and the boiler suit ducked down enough to scoop up a rock and hurled it at him, whereupon he headbutted it out of the air.

"Hey honey, good to see you." She said, as if she hadn't just chucked a rock at his head. "How come you didn't tell me you were back in Japan?"

"Cuz I only got back today." Genma said. "An' it's been a mite hectic what wiv arrangin' ta rebuild th' bike shop an' th' house an' shit."

"Fair enough."

"So who's yer friends?" Genma asked.

"Oh, the lanky guy's my friend Kenji Yamazaki,"

"Call me Yama." Yamazaki provided.

"And the girl's his daughter, Rei Hino." She frowned. "Hmm – maybe this isn't the right place for her after all."

"Like, huh?" Ranma asked, sticking his head out the door.

"Hey Ranma, good to see you."

"Hey mom. Been a while. What's that about this Yama guy's daughter?"

"She's had a hell of a shock and she's gone into a fugue state. She needs peace and quiet, and I don't think there'll be much of that here with you lot around."

Ranma snorted and critically examined Rei.

"Huh." He said.

"I think," Kasumi said, "This is where I come in. Your daughter is welcome to stay here for a while, Mr Yamazaki. I'll see what I can do for her."

"Thanks." Yama said, sounding a bit despondent. "Fuck, I feel like such a fucking weenie – first time I see my daughter since she was eight months old and she gets shellshock."

"Life has a habit of throwing curveballs." Kasumi said. "I've had some luck with some pretty bad cases." She relieved Yama of his catatonic daughter. "Come inside, I'll get you a cup of tea once I've got Rei settled."

Ranma and Micheru were gobsmackedly watching her. They had an eyebrow-waggling discussion as Kasumi left the room with Rei in tow, waited till she was out of earshot and turned to Nabiki in perfect sync.

"What's the deal with Kasumi?" Micheru asked.

"She gotten a split personality or somethin'?" Ranma put in.

"Actually, no. It's just she's stoned most of the time, and the rest of the time she's asleep or possessed by Mom." Akane explained.

"Ya what?" Ranma spluttered.

"Our mother died when I was seven." Nabiki said. "She stayed around as a ghost to look after us, but the only way she can communicate is by possessing someone. That someone is normally Kasumi."

"… fair enough."

"That," Genma said, "Is onea th' most fucked-up things I've ever heard."

"Uh, hang on." Yamazaki said. "Is this gonna be cool? Butch?"

"It's cool."

"Oh my fuckin' god, Nodoka. Did that dude just call ya 'Butch' or am I hallucinatin'?" Genma boggled.

"It's my callsign." Nodoka said.

"Some guys call her Meatgrinder." Yama said with a shrug, glancing in the direction of the stairs.

"Hold on." Nabiki said. "That name rings a bell… Oh my fucking god, you're renegade truckers aren't you?"

"According to the slime." Yama said with a shrug.

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'Renegade trucker' was the police term for a recent trend in high-speed haulage.

In 1992, under pressure from deadlines and the traffic police, a trucker known only as T-Bone had responded by attaching an enormous armoured bumper to his truck, supercharging the engine and fitting fake plates.

This had the result of beginning an arms race of sorts with the traffic cops. An arms race the truckers were currently winning, hands down.

They drove rigs like eighteen-wheeled tanks, and let nothing stand in their way; most of these rigs could smash their way through solid concrete walls, and they usually had full-width ploughs for tearing up spikes. The trucks were capable of at least 175mph with seventy tons on the back, and were armoured enough to stop a .50 machine gun slug.

There were about thirty of these trucks throughout Japan, and they were under great demand from even some very reputable businesses.

The industries of Japan were enough to keep the thirty-or-so drivers working flat-out, solving one supply crisis after another. When goods were urgently needed, someone was sure to call the renegade truckers.

And those truckers were a tightly-knit bunch, as well as being some of the most wanted people in Japan. People who messed with them tended to suffer fatal traffic accidents.

The one the cops called 'Meatgrinder' was thought to be the ringleader. T-Bone had been run off a cliff by a Yakuza operative in 1994, leading to the most one-sided gang war in Japanese history as the renegade truckers proceeded to wipe that particular Yakuza family off the face of the Earth by the simple expedient of driving over them with armoured hot-rod lorries; the cops had called it 'roadkill week'.

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"Ye Gods." Nabiki muttered, wondering what the Hell she was getting involved in this time. She came to a snap decision. "I'll be in my room."

Akane gave her the is-this-cool look. She replied with the dunno-yet look and marched off on a mission to her computer and phone.

"What's up wiv her?" Ranma asked, settling himself on the sofa and hooking an ashtray over.

"She's just checking some stuff out." Akane said with a shrug.

"Background checks. I approve." Nodoka stated, going and sitting down beside her son. "You've found a good crew, son."

"Hey, only just met mosta 'em today." Ranma told her. "Oi Xian Pu, Akane, in case ya ain't guessed this is me an' Micheru's mum. Mum, th' chick who went upstairs is Nabiki Tendo, th' goth's her sister Akane, who's gay, an' her wiv th' purple hair is Xian Pu O'Conner."

"Top of the morning to yeh." Xian Pu chirped up in her severely Irish-accented English.

Akane contemplated Nodoka through half-lidded eyes.

How had this short, broad-shouldered, butch woman mothered a tall, willowy, elegant beauty like Micheru? Especially considering how the other half of Micheru's genes had come from a lard-arsed biker?

"So how ya been?" Ranma asked.

Nodoka blinked, not having expected this. Her expectations for her reunion with her children were rapidly falling to pieces.

"Is yer sister seriously runnin' background checks on us?" Genma asked Akane, who thought about it for a moment then nodded.

Genma let out a low, evil-sounding laugh.

"I'm gonna enjoy watchin' her face." He stated.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Akane snapped.

"Simple." Genma said. "Apart from Micheru's school records, we're digital ghosts. Good luck findin' much of anythin' on us."

"Especially me." Nodoka remarked, sounding smug. "She's going to have some seriously creeped-out contacts."

Akane gave her a doubtful look, shrugged it off, and went back to her book.

Nodoka, noticing the cessation of interest from that quarter, turned her attention back to her son.

"Alright, let's get a look at you." She critically examined him.

"Listen, I gotta get moving." Yamazaki said. "I gotta retrieve Rei's stuff." He jabbed a finger at Genma, then at Soun. "You better fucking take care of her."

Genma snorted.

"Yeah, don't sweat it foxboy. She ain't gettin' hurt on my watch."

"Good. Glad that's cleared up. I'll be back in a couple of hours, once I've got her stuff, OK?"

"I hear ya." Genma said with a nod.

"Later Yama." Nodoka distractedly remarked.

"Later Butch." Yamazaki slouched out.

"I ain't a fuckin' horse." Ranma muttered, starting to get annoyed with his mother's examination.

"You're as big as one." Micheru pointed out.

"Bite me, sis."

"Nah, you're too chewy."

"Is it just me or are you two innuendoing at each other?" Akane asked. Ranma and Micheru looked a bit confused.

"Huh?"

"I guess it is just me then. Seriously, it sounded like Micheru was talking about your privates." Akane explained, looking a bit embarrassed.

Ranma stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

Nodoka sat back down, satisfied with what she'd seen.

"Well, you've held up your end of the agreement, Genma." She said.

Ranma stopped laughing like someone had thrown a switch.

"Wot agreement?" he asked, obviously not liking the sound of this.

"Why, the seppeku contract of course." Nodoka said.

Genma rolled his eyes.

Ranma's eyes narrowed.

"Wot seppuku contract?" he growled, definitely not liking the sound of this.

"You didn't tell him about it?" Nodoka asked Genma.

"Didn't need ta. Ya don't really think I took that stupid thing serious, do ya?"

"Some people stand by their promises, husband." Nodoka snapped.

"Quit beatin' around th' fuckin' bush." Ranma snarled, rising to his full (very impressive) height. "Either yer gonna explain what th' fuck yer yammerin' on about, or I'm gonna throw ya through that window an' inta that fuckin' koi pond, then throw Dad in after ya, ya readin' me?"

Nabiki chose this moment to come back downstairs with a distant expression on her face. Nobody really noticed; they were too intent on the tableau in the middle of the living room.

"Cool down." Nodoka commanded, again failing to notice how infuriated Ranma was getting.

Nodoka withdrew a piece of parchment from her pocket.

"Oh, when your father took you on the training trip, I had him sign this contract, stating that he'd bring you back a man among men or you'd both commit seppeku. Of course, we had you sign it too."

As he'd listened, Ranma's face had got darker and darker and his eyes had gained a nasty glint; meanwhile, Micheru had first looked shocked, then frightened, and now looked angry. Xian Pu, for her part, was sat there with an unnervingly blank expression on her face.

"You. **Fucking**. **WHAT**?" Ranma snarled.

"It's fer real." Genma said. "Long story."

"We're gonna discuss this later, Dad." Ranma flatly stated, his rage having suddenly become a deadly ice-cold calm Nabiki found a bit like looking in the mirror. "But right now, I've got bigger fish to fry." He extended a hand towards his mother, palm up.

"Hand it over."

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man." Nodoka snapped. Ranma let out a low growl.

"That fucking thing is going in the fire. 'Manly'?" He spat. "Your fucking issues aren't my fucking concern, and if you try to make 'em my concern I'll make my fucking Size Thirteen steel-toecap fucking **boot** your arse's fucking concern."

"Why are you all acting like I've already judged Ranma as un-manly?" Nodoka asked, now completely confused.

Ranma and Micheru had a quick exchange of waggled eyebrows, then Ranma picked up his beercan.

"Ever heard of Jusenkyo?" he asked.

"As in the cursed springs in the Bayanakalas at the northwest end of the Valley of Three Tribes?" Nodoka checked.

Ranma nodded and upended the beer over his head.

Nodoka's jaw dropped as the six ten titan of a young man became a tiny, slender, petite, utterly swamped in oversized leathers, girl.

"Stick that in yer pipe and fuckin' smoke it." Ranma snapped, shaking beer out of her long ragged blazing red hair. "Someone wanna get me some hot water?"

"You and your dramatics." Micheru grumbled, slouching into the kitchen.

"My God." Nodoka murmured. "I had no idea. I think-"

At that moment, Xian Pu lost it.

Her hand came flying out of her jacket pocket wrapped round a chunk of blue steel; a Makarov handgun. This she levelled at Nodoka's head.

"Xian Pu no care you-" she started, but Ranma was too fast for her.

"**Give me the gun, Shampoo**." Ranma barked. Her accent was completely gone, and her voice was as hard as a length of railroad track.

The effect it had on Xian Pu was incredible. She froze and went very literally white. Her skin was chalky at the best of times; she now went as pale as an albino. Her expression was reminiscent of that normally worn by a small furry creature that knows it's got about five seconds left to live.

She safed the gun, and handed it to Ranma butt-first; Ranma hauled the magazine out, pulled the slide back, caught the ejected cartridge and pocketed the lot.

"We'll talk about this later, Shampoo." She told the shivering Amazon, then turned back to the now utterly bewildered Nodoka.

"If you think," Ranma said, shifting so she was stood behind Xian Pu with her hands rested on Xian Pu's belly, "I am going to let my child grow up without a father, **you've got another fucking think coming**."

**--end chapter here.**

Note from author to reader –

I'm not particularly bothered about whether people comment on this thing as I'm mainly writing it for my own enjoyment, but getting comments gives me warm and fuzzies. If you spot any typos, please let me know so I can correct them; this sucker gets proofread by Word's spellchecker at the moment. Likewise, if you've got any pet theories as to what I'm doing with the plot, or things you'd love to see in this sucker, please post them – I've got a pretty good idea where I'm going with this thing, but suggestions are always appreciated whether I use 'em or not. While you're at it, be aware that the love polygon (or rather, spaghetti incident) and family tree (or rather, family jungle) I'll be using is already set, and it's definitely non-canon. Hell, I've already established (in the Big Fat Notes File O' Doom) who Ranma and Shampoo's child is going to end up with… now it's just a matter of getting the cast from here to there without things seeming contrived.

No I won't be telling you how it'll end up, that'd spoil my fun, wreck some surprises and sound quite silly without the intervening plot.

Note that if you ask a non-spoiler question in the comments thread, I'll post the answer on the Biker ½ rewrite forum; you can find said forum in my profile. This isn't because I'm being awkward, it's so I can build up a bit of a FAQ in a central location rather than having possibly-critical answers spread liberally through a comment thread or lost in the ether via PM. I'll notify the presence of any new answer posts either in the author's notes at the end of each chapter, or on the comments thread.

Also note that the mangled grammar in a lot of the character dialogue is intentional, and the mangled spelling in said dialogue is intended to be evocative of the character's accent. As for grammatical errors when Shampoo's talking Japanese, yes her Japanese really is that bad.

Any grammar errors in the Scots Gaelic bits are unintentional but doubtlessly very present as I am using an English-Gaelic dictionary and I sadly do not speak a word of Gaelic, a fact I am ashamed of as it is after all the native language of Scotland. Hopefully one day in the not-so-distant future I'll be able to go back and correct my inevitable Gaelic errors.

Revised 16/ April /07, correcting a 'short between the headphones'. I managed to miss writing down the chapter title and 'In which…', and to compound that I managed to contradict something I'd said in chapter 1. Duh!

General revision 18/ April /07, improvements to formatting.

Further general revision 25/April/07, more improvements to formatting.


	6. Chapter 4

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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_My father when I was younger_

_Took me up onto the hill_

_That looked down on the city smog_

_Above the factory spill_

_He said this is where I come_

_When I want to be free_

_Well he never was in his lifetime_

_But these words stuck with me_

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The silence in the Tendo living room was profound following Ranma's statement; several unusual things happened during this silence.

Akane smiled.

Soun looked absolutely flabbergasted.

Genma looked proud.

Micheru shrugged in a 'hey, what can you do' manner and poured the glass of water she'd just come out the kitchen with over Ranma's head.

Nabiki momentarily wore the 'filing-away-for-later-use' expression.

Kasumi continued watching her smoke rings.

Xian Pu stopped being pale and went an interesting shade of pink.

Ranma continued steadily glaring at his mother, not seeming to notice the change of gender or the massive increase in height.

And Nodoka, for her part, stared blankly from her son to the purple-haired girl and back.

"Are you saying," Akane asked, "Shampoo's pregnant?"

Ranma and Xian Pu both simply nodded.

"By about six weeks." Ranma said, his voice back to normal. He idly fished the Makarov's magazine out of his pocket along with the loose round, and clipped the shell back into the mag, then removed the gun from his other pocket, slipped the clip in and slid the now with-ammo gun back into the pocket of Xian Pu's jacket which she had pulled it from.

"Wow." Akane said. "Congratulations, you two."

Ranma shrugged, still not letting go of Xian Pu. "It's kinda a weird feelin'; I'm gonna be a dad before I'm eighteen."

"So is it a boy or a girl?" Nabiki casually asked.

"Dunno." Ranma said with another shrug. "An' I don't really care. Family's family, an' at least my kid ain't gonna have a mum as fuckin' psycho as mine."

"Ranma, I-" Nodoka started, but got cut off by a snarl from Ranma.

"Shaddup." He growled. "I already tole ya, if ya think I'm gonna top meself ya got another think comin'." He spat. "That ain't honour. Honour ain't killin' someone over somethin' what wuz done when he wuz six. Honour is stickin' up fer yer friends, an' ta fuck wiv what any other cunt thinks."

There was a long silence, which Nabiki finally broke.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

Ranma snorted. "I tend ta say what I mean." He said.

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**Disclaimer: After nine years in Ranma ½ fanfiction and over 300 unposted ideas-that-didn't-go-anywhere, Ranma-Meets-The-Tendos sequences may get a bit repetitive to write.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**With thanks to Kuro Neko for some great questions that made me sit back and really think. Hopefully this chapter'll answer a few of 'em!**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 4: Girls With Guns.**

**(In which a bunch of gun-fondling takes place, and Nabiki discovers something that scares bejeezus out of her)**

"Ranma, I-" Nodoka started, but immediately got cut off.

"No. Hand it over." Ranma snapped.

"It-" Nodoka tried. No such luck.

"Crazy woman give Ranma scroll now?" Xian Pu asked, cocking her head.

"I-" Nodoka gave it another shot.

"**Hand it over**." Ranma repeated.

"Will-"

"You give Ranma scroll or Xian Pu duff up!"

"WOULD YOU TWO PLEASE JUST FUCKING LISTEN TO ME?" Nodoka screamed, by now completely frustrated.

Ranma and Xian Pu shared a slightly satisfied look.

"Whatever." Ranma said. "Make wiv th' talkin'."

Nodoka stood there and realised they'd successfully made her forget what she wanted to say in the first place.

"So anyway, are ya gonna hand it over?" Ranma asked.

Nodoka blinked. That was it.

"You're acting like I'd declare an expecting father unmanly. I have certain expectations, but I'm not an idiot." She said.

Ranma looked at her for a long moment.

"Listen." He said, his accent once more gone. "You have a choice. If you want children who recognise you exist, give me that scroll. If you keep the scroll, I and Micheru will discard you. I will not have that damn thing hanging over my head. So either hand it over, or neither of us will ever even _look at you_ again."

Nodoka went very literally as white as a sheet. Her hands shaking, she handed the scroll to Ranma, who withdrew his Zippo from his pocket, and very deliberately burned the scroll.

Once he was satisfied no particle of it had escaped the flame, he nodded.

"See? That weren't so hard." He said.

"Ranma Saotome, you are something else." Nodoka said, slowly shaking her head and looking bemused.

Ranma smirked.

"Course I am." He said. "Look at who I grew up wiv, an' where, an' how. Most important lesson I ever learned; don't take shit from anybody. If ya let someone hold one over ya, yer fucked."

Nabiki frowned darkly, and headed back upstairs.

"Ya see," Ranma continued, "If ya had that damn scroll an' I stood there an' let ya use it ta threaten me, it'd be like an axe hangin' over my head. I got enough enemies already; I don't need my fuckin' mother after me too."

"Ranma, I-"

"Look, Mom. It's gonna take me a while ta trust ya again, OK?" Ranma stated. "Anyway, me gearbox wuz makin' a funny noise in second; I gotta go strip it down an' make sure I ain't cracked any gears."

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"So, what've you got?" Akane asked.

Nabiki nearly hit the ceiling.

"Geez, Akane! Don't do that to me!"

"Sorry." Akane said, slightly bemused; she'd come clattering into the room in her normal absolutely-not-sneaky style, the one she cultivated so people would think she couldn't sneak. Presumably Nabiki's attention had been so locked into what she'd been doing that she hadn't noticed until Akane spoke.

"Jeez. I was a bit focused there, you nearly gave me a heart attack." Nabiki said, confirming what Akane was guessing.

"Sorry. So anyway, what've you got?"

Nabiki grimaced.

"Surprisingly little. Micheru first. She's got the sort of paper trail you'd expect; birth record, medical records, education, musical-related stuff – she really has been on the professional circuits as a violinist since she was nine. Ranma – well, he's where things start getting a bit fishy. He's got a birth record and medical records just like you'd expect, but his education records consist of a series of exam results. As for this Ryoga person, he's like a spectre. Birth record, and that's it. Genma's not even got that much – it's like he appeared fully-formed about thirty-five years ago and committed a string of robberies, then vanished again for nearly a decade, whereupon he turned up married to Nodoka and running a certain bike shop. Thing is, that bike shop was in business for two years before the first mention I can find of Genma, and there's anecdotal mention of him about forty to forty-five years ago on a couple of biker websites a contact of mine pointed me to. Then there's Xian Pu. She might as well not even exist. The only clues about her I was able to find were a couple of Chinese wanted notices – apparently she's wanted for terrorism and membership of a proscribed organisation."

"Try looking up Xian Pu O'Conner on the English-language Internet." Came Xian Pu's deeply Irish-accented voice from the doorway. "Or maybe Nabiki do simple way, just ask Xian Pu, hmm?"

"SHIT! Gods, you nearly made me jump out my skin! Is it scare-crap-out-of-Nabiki day today or something?"

Xian Pu giggled, sauntered over to beside Nabiki, pulled up Nabiki's PowerMac's web browser, and googled 'Amazon Rock' using Nabiki's English-language keyboard.

"That big hint for today." She said.

"What's it say?" Akane asked, peering over Nabiki's shoulder.

"Xian Pu play guitar." Xian Pu said with a shrug. "How it work, in Amazon world, Amazon expected master three skills, no? Xian Pu learn fight from young. That first skill. Second skill Xian Pu learn because fascinated; Xian Pu learn be swordsmith. Then Xian Pu spend long time try choose third skill. Weird outsider male do work for Elders, ship machineguns to Amazons, thing like that. He teach Xian Pu play guitar. Xian Pu father live where come from, he no able go China; he live Ireland. Xian Pu spend half life Ireland, half life China, because it annoy Elders. Xian Pu get involved pub band in Donegal. Xian Pu learn rock and roll." She shrugged. "Elders no know Xian Pu release album, no know Xian Pu tour, but what Elders no know no hurt Xian Pu ear."

"So what's this about terrorism?" Nabiki asked.

Xian Pu winced. "Amazon village in China, no? Maoists no like Amazons no follow Maoist laws. Ancient magic hide Valley of Three Tribes, enemies no able find. When no in Valley, Amazon need be careful. Government want destroy Valley of Three Tribes. Government catch Amazon, government torture Amazon, try to make Amazon say how for get to Valley of Three Tribes, so they able drop nuclear bomb, make Valley of Three Tribes no there no more. Xian Pu kill three Peoples Army soldiers when rescue friend. It them or Xian Pu friend, so Xian Pu say, 'stuff this shit', Xian Pu pull trigger. Government want capture Xian Pu. If government capture Xian Pu, government torture, then when get bored put gun at Xian Pu head, BANG BANG BANG!, send bill for bullet to Xian Pu family."

"… oh." Nabiki said.

Akane stared at her for a long moment, then turned round and walked out.

"Xian Pu no piss off Akane?"

"No, she's just weird like that sometimes." Nabiki said, switching to English since Xian Pu was actually mostly legible in said language. "So who's your father? How come you don't have a birth record?"

"Oh, my dad's Sean O'Conner, from the County Down." Xian Pu said with a shrug. "He's an arms dealer, ships old Russian weapons to the Middle East for the main part. Momma met him when she was arranging a few guns for the village, they had a few too many to drink, there were some things said, Momma took a swing at Dad, and found out that Dad used to be the all-Ireland champion of Thai kickboxing. I took his family name to piss off my great-grandmother after Momma got killed. I was actually born in County Claire, you'll find my records if you check in Ireland."

Akane came stomping back into the room; this time Nabiki was distracted enough that Akane didn't make her jump.

Akane reached into her jacket and withdrew a handgun, strapped into a leather holster; she reached into the other pocket and came out with a pair of loaded magazines.

"The Makarov's a piece of shit." She said. "Take this; it's a Beretta Model 93R. It's got selective fire; this is the fire selector lever. One white dot showing means it's on single-shot mode, three showing means it's on three-shot burst mode. This is the safety catch. This is the magazine catch. The magazines are twenty-round, so you want to use three-shot mode sparingly. You can use that dead tree at the bottom of the garden for target practise; nobody bats an eyelid when I shoot it up. When you need more ammo lemme know. I've given you two magazines of full metal jacket hollowpoints. I've got a cleaning kit I'll give you later."

She handed the gun and the pair of magazines to Xian Pu, who was now staring at her like she'd grown an extra head.

"Where Akane get?" she asked.

Akane snorted. "You know how you said you've got three skills? Same goes for me. Like you, I picked martial arts for my first and weaponsmithing for my second. Only I decided to learn to make more modern weaponry."

"Akane… make gun?" Xian Pu asked, mindboggled.

Akane nodded. "Yeah. I make guns. Well, at first I made old-style siege weapons, like ballistas and stuff, and it kinda progressed from there."

Xian Pu made a distracted noise and pulled the gun out of it's holster.

"She had an epiphany after the Trebuchet Incident, a howitzer couldn't have been loaded with lemon meringue by someone as stupid as Kuno. Ow!" Nabiki said, that last part because Akane had punched her in the shoulder. Xian Pu glanced up; she was closely examining the faux-Beretta, and her distracted noise was still going on, but had turned into a pleased noise.

"Guns are a lot simpler than people think." Akane lectured. "There's only like sixty or seventy parts, and most of them only have to be a specific shape in specific places. It's not like the first pistol I made was the first time I used machine tools, either. I just… kinda discovered they're the most satisfying thing to make, that's all. You're making something dangerous, something that'd scare the Hell out of a lot of people and for good reason… it's kinda scary and it's a weird feeling the first time you pick up this hunk of metal you made and realise if you pull the trigger someone might die, but it's a kinda cool feeling too."

Xian Pu very thoughtfully put the Beretta back in it's holster.

"Personally, I think she's barking insane." Nabiki said. "This is Japan, for Pete's sake! Not some third-world nation. It's safe here."

"It never bad idea have weapon." Xian Pu told her. "Place never more than mostly safe. There always some danger."

Nabiki slowly shook her head.

"Now there's two of them." She said.

"Four, actually." Ranma remarked, once again making her jump. "That's pretty goddamn cool. Lemme have a look?"

Xian Pu grinned impishly and handed him the Beretta; Akane noted that he handled it like he knew what he was doing.

"Heh. I don't normally like Eytie guns, but this one's pretty fuckin' nice."

"There's nothing wrong with Italian guns. The Beretta 92 and 93 are great guns, Bernadelli make nice guns, the Tanfoglio TA90 is a nice gun." Akane said, sounding slightly defensive.

"Yeah, but have ya seen th' early Beretta sub-machine guns? Yuck." Ranma handed the Beretta back to Xian Pu. "Anyway, I tend ta stick wiv German guns. Ya know where ya stand wiv a German gun."

"Oh yeah? You got one?" Akane checked.

"Heckler and Koch P7." Ranma said, pulling it out of his jacket; it looked like a toy in his long-fingered hands.

"So who's number four?" Nabiki called after them.

Ranma glanced back at her.

"Dad's got an old German machine gun on his bike." He remarked, and continued on course. "Gettin' ammo's a pig but it's still cool."

"Now that I've got to see!" Akane said.

Nabiki slowly shook her head.

"They're completely insane, the lot of them." She muttered, and went back to her frustrating search.

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The Beretta spluttered, and three closely-spaced bullets smashed into the old dead tree, leaving yet more great gouges in it's bullet-scarred wood.

"That kick butt!" Xian Pu happily stated, lowering the gun, setting the safety, decocking the hammer and tucking it into its holster.

Ranma grinned and handed Akane his H&K. She let off several shots, then grinned, made a 'thumbs up' gesture, and handed it back.

"I like it. The trigger pull's so-so, but the action's really smooth and that grip safety is great! Can I borrow it, make some measurements?"

"What, so ya can make pirate copies, right?" Ranma checked, conscientiously clearing the H&K.

"You got it." Akane confirmed. "Well, actually, I want to include a grip safety on Frankengun 12."

"Frankengun?" Ranma asked, now intrigued.

Akane winked and withdrew a weapon from her jacket. It was a bulky semi-automatic handgun with a vaguely Glock-like look to it.

"The first one wasn't a pretty sight." She said. "Nabiki nicknamed it 'Frankenstein's Gun' because it looked like it was random parts of random guns randomly jammed together the wrong way, it was basically the back end of a Mauser Broomhandle with the front end of a Luger and some bits of Browning High Power stuck on. I basically took whichever bits of design I could get hold of and stuck them all together. It was horrible! Innacurate, you were lucky to fire an entire clip without it jamming up, it would go off if you dropped it or just shook it hard – hell, some days it seemed to go off if you looked at it funny – and eventually the barrel went flying too when I pulled the trigger, but I learnt some valuable lessons; I stuck to copying guns for ages after that. Frankengun 2 was basically me taking the Desert Eagle mechanism, adding a decocking system like on a SIG P220, and chambering it for ammo made by cutting down 7.62 NATO cases to the same length as a 9mm. It's evolved since then, I build in features I like from each gun design I get hold of. This one's Frankengun 11. I'm still using the same gas-operated mechanism as I did in Frankengun 2, but it's got selective fire based on the Kalashnikov rifle design, the decocking lever moves the firing pin into a groove where it can't come into contact with the primer or the hammer, and there's a bunch of other internal differences, mainly just making it easier to make or doing bits the way I like, and of course you can see the external differences. It's very much my gun."

"Cut-down 7.62, huh? Hang on, where ya get brass round here?"

Akane grinned.

"What you probably don't realise," she said, "Is that Nerima has the highest concentration of goths, metallers, skaters, moshers, hippies, fetishists, cosplayers, punks, and other sorts of freak, in the whole of Japan. We outnumber the mundanes ten to one. What that means is, as well as having some of the best music shops in Japan, Nerima plays host to the biggest range of alternative clothing shops in the world. And my dad is loaded. I get enough pocket money to buy a car each week, and I'm not talking a crap car, I mean something like a brand-new Merc. Compared to the money Dad's squirreling away, that's a drop in the bloody bucket. He's in real estate, big time; hell, Dad owns half of Nerima."

"So, money-is-no-object kinda loaded." Ranma grunted, nodding.

"Yeah. That's why Kasumi can afford to drive a Corvette. That's why Nabiki can afford to wear million-Yen suits. And that's why I've got the best machine tools money can buy. So anyway, that's how I get the heavier ammo, like rifle cartridges; I buy cartridge belts from rock shops and reload the cases myself. The smaller stuff – 9mm and .38 for the main part, but there's always a lot of .32 Auto mixed in – I get brass out the skip behind the police firing range at the other end of main street."

"They just sling the empties inna skip?" Ranma boggled.

"Yeah. Stupid, huh? There's nothing wrong with those cases, you can use 'em like four or five times before they start to crack."

"What about bullet?" Xian Pu asked.

"I cast my own, and jacket them by electroplating. Powder's pretty simple too; it's a doddle to make once you know how… I wish I could get a wider range of cases, but no joy. At least a shortened 7.62 can be got to act a bit like a .45."

"Hey, how come ya can pot away back here wivout gettin' pigs up ta th' ears?" Ranma asked.

Akane snorted. "Ranma, your dad's plot is the only land within a mile of this house that Dad doesn't own, and that includes the land the nearest police station's built on. Hell, Dad owns the land that police firing range I was saying about is built on. Everyone in this half of Nerima pays rent to Dad, and when I made my first Frankengun and started shooting at that tree, there were of course cops popped up. Dad made it rather clear he took a dim view of cops turning up when I was popping away. Just about everyone in Nerima knows I always carry a loaded gun; that's probably why I've never had to use one."

Ranma slowly nodded, frowning in thought.

"Huh. Yer old man sounds like th' sorta cat ya wanna be on th' right side a'. Listen, I gotta go finish strippin' me gearbox, I've knocked a loada teeth offa second an' I'm gonna haveta make some new parts. Later ya two, have fun."

He hove himself to his feet and slouched over to his partially-disassembled bike; the two girls sat there in silence for a few moments.

"Can Xian Pu ask big favour?" Xian Pu said.

"What sort of favour?" Akane asked.

The half-Irish Amazon looked faintly embarrassed.

"Can Xian Pu try shoot Frankengun?"

Akane blinked and handed the mutant handgun over butt-first.

"That's not a big favour." She said.

"It no polite for touch other woman weapon when she no say okay." Xian Pu said, carefully examining the odd gun. "Xian Pu no want insult host."

Then she aimed, sighted, and squeezed the trigger. Frankengun 11 crashed and spat a half-inch chunk of copper-coated lead, which slammed into and left a good-sized dent in the dead tree.

"Woo! Kick like donkey!" Xian Pu said, sounding impressed; she carefully handed the gun back.

"Yeah, the kick's a bit of a bitch, but you get used to it. Hey, something I wanted to ask you." Akane remarked.

"What?" Xian Pu said.

"How come you say your surname's O'Conner while Ranma's surname's Saotome? Shouldn't you have the same surname since you're married?"

Xian Pu grinned impishly. "Is simple really." She said. "Is Amazon way that husband take family name of wife, child take family name of mother. Xian Pu take family name of father because it piss off stuck-up Elders. Then when marry Ranma, Xian Pu discuss with Ranma, decide no much point for change surname. Xian Pu like be O'Conner, Ranma like be Saotome. When baby born, baby be Saotome because it _**really**_ piss off Elders."

"Right." Akane said. "Hey, I couldn't help but notice you and his sister and his father are always like deferring to Ranma? What's the deal with that?"

Xian Pu was silent for nearly a minute. Akane was just starting to think she'd pushed things too far too fast when the half-Irish girl spoke.

"It no Akane business, but Xian Pu figure Akane know soon enough." She mused. "Ranma not like Amazon males. Amazon males obedient, dutiful. Amazon male no challenge woman. No stand up for selves. Xian Pu no like whimp. Ranma… powerful. Have strong voice, strong hands. When Xian Pu say master martial arts, Xian Pu mean master martial arts. Amazon Wu Shu art Xian Pu master. In village championship, Xian Pu fight all young unmarried warriors. Xian Pu win fifty-seven fights, still no tired. Then Ranma beat Xian Pu, use one finger, take two seconds, Xian Pu no able stand up two hours, feel like truck hit Xian Pu."

"Holy _shit_, he's _that_ good?"

Xian Pu shrugged.

"Elder Lo Shin be Amazon Battlemistress. Elder Lo Shin living library for Amazon Wu Shu. Elder Lo Shin know all Amazon secrets, know all Amazon fighting ways. Elder Lo Shin watch Ranma beat Xian Pu. Elder Lo Shin walk up, shake Ranma hand, say 'That well fought, boy'. When Xian Pu fight Ranma, it feel like fight… fight **big big bomb**. Xian Pu spar Ranma every day since marry, that eight weeks. Xian Pu never manage touch Ranma when Ranma no say can. That how good Ranma."

"Jeez, I'm glad I got over my challenge-everything-that-moves stage." Akane muttered. "So anyway, where's this leading?"

Xian Pu smiled and squeezed off another string of shots.

"Xian Pu no like take command." She said. "Xian Pu always expected be leader since Momma killed. Xian Pu like man take control."

At that moment, Kasumi called them in for dinner.

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Satisfyingly full and unrealistically tired from what had been a pretty intense day, Akane flopped back on her bed and stared at the Sisters of Mercy poster she had directly above it; three bullet holes stood as stark mementos of the worst day of her life.

"I was right." She said. "Gods, now I'm talking to myself – I must be going round the twist."

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As Akane was vocally doubting her own sanity, Nabiki was engaged in something much more entertaining (for herself); she was eavesdropping.

Not that it was difficult. The two Saotome parents were in her father's office at the back of the house and they weren't being quiet.

"Any idea how stupid you look right now?" Genma asked.

Nabiki frowned. That wasn't what she'd been expecting to hear.

"What are you talking about, husband?" Nodoka snapped in a cold voice.

Genma snorted, obviously annoyed.

"Did you really think I'd let you carry through with that seppuku crap? Did you really think I care that little? And did you really think our son would let you so much as try?" he asked.

There was a long silence from Nodoka.

"No, not really. You look pretty stupid yourself; do you really think I would have carried through with it?"

There was a scuffling noise, a thud, and a strained-sounding grunt in Nodoka's voice. Risking a peek round the corner of the doorway, Nabiki saw Genma had grabbed Nodoka by the shirt and slammed her against the wall.

"You did a nice fucking job of convincing our son you're a fucking lunatic, woman." He snarled. "You did a nice fucking job of convincing everyone in the fucking room. You had Nabiki fooled, and that girl's as sharp as your katana. Sharper, even. I hope you're fucking proud of yourself, you fucking sadist!"

"I wanted to know how far Ranma would let people push him." Nodoka snarled. Genma groaned and let go of her.

"About five microns." He said. "I coulda told you that… Look, Nodoka. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. This doesn't leave this room, understood?"

Nodoka sighed.

"I read you." She said. "This is Clan-related, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Genma stuck his head out the door and smirked at Nabiki. "You might as well come in."

Nabiki glared at him. "How'd you know I was here?"

Genma grabbed her wrist and towed her into the study. He pushed her into a chair and settled himself leant against the desk.

"Simple, really." He said. "I've got an extremely sharp sense of smell."

"You… smelt me?" Nabiki asked, astonished. Genma nodded.

"Yeah. That perfume you use? You shouldn't, it clashes with yer natural scent. Anyway. What do you know about the history of the Tendo line, and more to the point Clan Saotome? I know you've done a few background checks on me."

"You do a really good job of getting people to underestimate you." Nabiki said.

Genma nodded again.

"Big fat biker here. If I swill a lot of beer, swear a lot an' talk wiv a kinda slurred accent, bit like this, then people always underestimate me. They think I'm what I look like. So, gonna answer me question?"

Nabiki slowly nodded.

"I've not found much." She said. "Just bits and scraps."

"Does the name Akira Saotome ring any bells?" Genma asked.

Nabiki slowly nodded.

"Yes…" she said.

Genma nodded again, then gave Nabiki and Nodoka very serious looks.

"Akira is my grandfather." He said. "The day the twins were born, Ranma was secretly Named."

"Holy **shit**!" Nodoka squeaked, suddenly as white as a sheet.

"You stressed 'Named'." Nabiki said. "Why? Most people get named the day they're born."

"A Clan naming ceremony is a whole different kettle of fish, Nabiki. And when people say 'named' like 'Named', they're talking about a seriously big fucking deal. In short, it made Ranma Akira's heir." Nodoka told her.

"You're not yakuza are you?" Nabiki checked.

Genma spat.

"This is far deeper than those thugs."

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At about three in the it's-starting-to-get-early-again, Xian Pu O'Conner woke up with a need to piss.

After laying there for a few long moments trying to work out where she was, she got her brain to catch up, extracted herself from her husband's arms, and felt her way down the corridor towards the bathroom, aided by the light that was coming from under Nabiki's door.

Halfway back from the toilet, she heard something odd.

A soft snore, underlaid by quiet sobbing.

Now puzzled, she homed in on the sound, and found it coming from the door nearest the head of the stairs; Kasumi's room.

She very carefully opened the door, and peered in.

There was Kasumi, sleeping the sleep of the profoundly stoned. She was the source of the snore.

And there, curled up in a foetus position in the middle of the floor having rolled off the futon and sent the covers flying, was the dark-haired girl who was apparently Ranma's mother's friend's daughter.

Xian Pu crept across the room and crouched down beside the weeping girl.

"What the fook happened teh you, dearie?" she whispered.

The girl didn't answer; she just kept rocking backwards and forwards and crying inconsolably.

Xian Pu made up her mind.

She gathered the hunched-up girl into her arms and stood. The girl wasn't exactly feather-light, but years of martial arts training, humping boxes and living out in the fresh air had made Xian Pu an exceptionally strong young woman; there was a good reason she looked slightly stocky.

Murmuring reassurances, she carried her crying cargo back to the room she was sharing with Ranma and Micheru, sat down on the bed beside Ranma's large hairy form, and started trying to get the girl calmed down.

Eventually, they slept.

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The next morning, Akane awoke annoyingly early. She got up, went through to the bathroom in the outsized T-shirt she used as a nightdress, cleaned up, went back to her bedroom and got dressed, and was just heading for her morning workout when she came face-to-face with Ranma and the events of the previous day came flooding back.

"Mornin'." He grunted.

"… morning." She said, then noticed the whirr of computer fans coming from Nabiki's room.

She stuck her head in as Ranma slouched downstairs.

Nabiki looked terrible. She obviously hadn't slept a wink; her eyes were bloodshot, and she was swaying gently as she glared at her computer.

"Sis, you need to get some sleep." Akane pointed out, sitting down on Nabiki's bed. Nabiki grimaced.

"This is seriously creeping me out."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Nabiki nodded twitchily. Akane noted the mess of coffee mugs; peering into one revealed brown slime the consistency of toffee.

"Nodoka's file's sealed _by direct Imperial order_." Nabiki ranted. "The only details on her that're available to anyone are the record of her marrying Genma, and that's incomplete, and her driving license. No address of residence, no medical records, not even dental records, no education, no birth certificate, no tax records – just a driving license and a record of marriage that looks like a form that got half filled in then stuck on a shelf and left there. Shit, they don't even have a file photo of her! I even checked for a criminal record; she's got one, but it's classified. **Classified**! What the Hell makes a criminal record classified? I've had a bit more luck with Genma, but it doesn't make any sense. First off, his tax records start abruptly at the same sort of time as he married Nodoka. Secondly, he's got a criminal record longer than a flagpole. Petty theft, assault, shoplifting and traffic offences for the main part, but check this out – a suspect in three murders, suspected drug dealer back in the fifties, suspected of high treason during the war, damn nearly went to war with the Americans during the occupation, been ever-so-nearly caught with guns more times than I've had hot dinners, yet suddenly about twenty-seven years ago he gets acquitted of the whole lot and it's just shelved. Shelved, like that! Then there's this Akira Saotome guy he dropped me a hint about. There's references to the guy pop up since records began, whoever the Hell he is. And there's something scary as Hell." Nabiki grimaced. "I noticed how Dad's a suspect in most of the same stuff as Genma. So I had a check of Dad's background."

"And?" Akane asked, shocked out of concerned-Akane mode.

"The only birth record in the name of Soun Tendo I could find was from over a century ago. I looked into it, and Dad's records are about as complete as Genma's. As for Mom… she doesn't have any records at all, apart from the record of her dying. So… well, I checked our records. You'll never guess what I found…" Nabiki drifted off.

"What?" Akane asked, now freaked out.

"_Nothing_." Nabiki said, her voice flat and deadly serious. "No birth certificates, no address of residence, the only place our education records exist are hardcopy at school, and our only medical records are in Doctor Tofu's casebooks. As far as the system is concerned, **we don't exist**."

_**End, chapter 4.**_

Next – Nabiki tries to get some answers, and we meet a few of Akane's pals.

Posted along with general revision; formatting current as of 18/ April /07

Further general revision 25/April/07, more improvements to formatting. Having (finally) checked the preview on I'm reverting to a similar style of scene breaks to those I used in the old version in the hope they don't get lost in formatting. The ' --- ' scene breaks are slightly jarring, but do not abruptly vanish on being posted. Hopefully this'll be the last time I have to engage in a general revision as they are getting more and more involved to undertake.

Slight revision to this chapter also 25/April/07, I'd got 'volubly' confused with 'vocally'. Duh, sleep lack strikes again.

**Author's Notes - **

After nine and a half years writing Ranma ½ altaverse fanfiction I have finally received my first flame.

(snark) Look Mum, I'm a real fanfiction author now! (snark)

I say this to dorkula and anyone else who ever decides to flame me:

-

_Burn me if you want to, but I won't feel the flame_

_Taunt me with your words, but I won't feel ashamed_

_Burn your crosses down until the morning light_

_Burn out my brown eyes, but I won't lose my sight_

_Cast at me the first stone, I'll cast it to the floor_

_Try to clip my wings, over mountains I will soar_

_Wear your white satin robes, I will wear my pride_

_To hold me back you may as well hold back the morning tide_

-

Look bucko, I'm not going to stop doing my thing because some character who couldn't even be arsed paying attention doesn't like it.

It's like this.

If you like my stuff that's cool.

If you don't like my stuff that's fine too (everyone to their own, right?) but do yourself a favour if I'm really crawling up your ass that much; click the little back button in your browser and go back to your lame fits-into-the-canon 'Ranma-picks-fiancee-X-the-end' oneshots before you have a head explosion due to having to deal with someone actually having an imagination.

Besides, as far as I'm concerned anyone who thinks plot elements and character details in this story are randomly grabbed out of a hat or 'wrong' because they're different from what Rumiko Takahashi came up with is completely missing the point.

That's fine, I've got no problem with that; I mean, okay, I think it's pretty stupid, but hell, nothing I say is going to make these people change their minds, so I'm not going to stress myself caring what they think.

But if you're getting confused by the ways I've altered characters and details of the setting, how about this.

Hold off on the flames, come back when I've completed this re-written Book 1, give the whole thing a read, actually pay some attention to the details (they're worth paying attention to because they are **not** an accident) and ask yourself, does the plot and character development within this story make sense?

If you've paid even the vaguest attention, the answer will probably be 'Yes'.

-

Moving on, if anyone's interested the song's 'White Gown', written by Duncan Chisholm and Ian Drever, from Wolfstone's 1994 album 'Year of the Dog', and if you like Celtic rock its well worth tracking down.

Hell, if you like Celtic rock and you don't know Wolfstone, then shame on you and oh boy are you in for a treat!

-

With that out the way, I can forsee firearms-related questions coming up, so I'll explain where I got a couple of details.

First off, the pistol calibres Akane mentions getting brass for out of a skip are the calibres my reference books list as being used by the Japanese police and military. That's why I selected them, not a personal preference in calibres; I must admit to not having much idea what the Hell .32 Auto is.

Secondly, cutting down cartridge cases is very much doable; some 'wildcat' custom calibres are made like this, but I've got no idea what you'd get if you cropped 7.62 NATO the way I described.

And thirdly, I don't know if you could electroplate hand-cast lead slugs (you'd probably have to cast the slug slightly undersized) but with gas operation and the sort of ammunition pressure Akane's messing around with in her Frankenguns, unjacketed slugs would foul the barrel in an unworkably short time, and probably screw up the gas piston in the process.

Please note that, aside from having fired a double-barrel shotgun (I missed the clay pigeon, BTW) my knowledge of firearms is entirely academic.

-

Now, on to answers to previous questions. BlazeStryker, CatOnFire, Kuro Neko and Koton, I've posted replies to your comment in the FAQ thread on the Biker ½ Rewrite Forum, which can be found via my profile.

-

To Tatsu-ZZmage, I'm afraid I can't comment on Akane's relationship status as that would be a spoiler for a very central plot I'm having a lot of fun creating.

-

To everyone who's commented, thanks for the kind words; to the rest of you, thanks for reading.

-

Doghead Out.


	7. Chapter 5

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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It was raining heavily; spray lifted from the soaked concrete in an endless curtain, rising to join the sheet of water that was pouring off the fuel station's roof. A bright green truck swept past, throwing another sheet of water onto the forecourt as it passed; inside the building, Gordon McKinnock sat there and was glad he wasn't outside. When Scotland decides to water its population, the result would make a good dictionary definition of 'torrential'.

With a rumble, a vehicle emerged from the downpour. It was a large ungainly black motorbike that seemed to be constructed from random parts randomly shoved together in any old random order, absolutely festooned in luggage, being ridden by an utterly drenched young Asian man who wasn't wearing a crash helmet.

He remained seated on his battered machine as he fuelled up. Gordon watched in detached bemusement and wondered what kind of nutter rode in this kind of weather (and wasn't it illegal to not wear a helmet?) as the bike drank down fuel; nearly sixty pounds worth of gas went into the vehicle's massive tank before the rider replaced the hose.

Then the biker did something that instantly made Gordon call the police; he kickstarted his machine and roared off into the rain.

The cops never found hide nor hair of him.

After all, Ryoga Hibiki was a continent away by the time they started looking.

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**Disclaimer: Down is obligatory. Sorry about that.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**This one's going out for people who break the rules, teenagers who hate school, everyone who's ever done something crazy just to see what would happen, anarchists, nutters, and anyone who's never believed a politician.**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 5: Birds of a Feather.**

**(In which Nabiki tries to get some answers, and we meet a few of Akane's friends)**

Micheru Saotome surfaced slowly.

Out of the twins, she'd always been the deeper sleeper. Ranma was inevitably up before her – he was an incredibly active guy. When he wasn't training in the marital arts he was sure to be repairing or modifying motorbikes, running, drawing designs, or just bouncing on the spot. He was a bit like a large extremely energetic dog.

Micheru, on the other hand, was a much more introverted person. She thought each movement through before she made it, and never wasted the slightest bit of energy. They were like night and day.

Today, something was pulling at her. Something indistinct.

A voice, singing.

Micheru lived for music. Music made her come alive, and this person was doing a superb job of singing an old Runrig standard, familiar from the Saotome family's time in Scotland.

(Which was entirely Genma's fault.)

-

(Lyrics deleted)

-

That was Xian Pu's voice.

What was Xian Pu doing singing a weird Scots folk-rock song?

Micheru dragged her eyes open. Blinking the crap out, she found herself with a prime view of the pale-skinned purple-haired beauty.

The Amazon, dressed only in the Ranma-sized T-shirt she used as a nightdress (yes, it really was one of Ranma's T-shirts) was cradling an unfamiliar and obviously upset dark-haired girl.

What in the fuck?

Micheru made her usual I've-just-woken-up noise.

"EeeeEaaallllrrrrggggggaaaaeeeellllleeelllleeee…"

Xian Pu sighed as Micheru's awakening gurgle wrecked half an hour's work.

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Ranma was finishing disassembly of his bike's gearbox when Akane arrived in the living room. He'd got a load of newspaper spread out on the patio and was carefully extracting bits of trashed gear from the oil channels; the gearbox was in a hell of a state.

"You really messed that up." Akane said.

Ranma shrugged. "Shit happens. Musta run it a bit too hard; guess I better scrounge up some tougher metal." He held up a chunk of shattered tooth. "This wuz cheap shit. Man, no wonder th' poor bloody thing was makin' a racket in second, I've ripped half a' th' gear ta bits!"

"Ya done a real number on that 'un." Genma remarked, walking past with a bucket in his hand.

"Yeah. Aw what th' hell, it's just metal." Ranma resumed picking bits out of the gearbox. "Hey Akane, ya know anywhere I can get titanium?"

"Sure I do." Akane said, helping herself to breakfast. "Why's that?"

"Cuz I'm gonna rebuild th' gearbox in titanium." Ranma said. "I'm sick a' havin' ta replace gears every few weeks."

"What've you got in that thing that you've gotta replace gears every few weeks, man? Like rocket fuel?" Kasumi asked.

"Sixteen monkeys on peroxide." Ranma offhandedly replied. "She's a Suzuki GSXR1100R bored out ta 1300cc an' gasflowed. She's got short-throw conrods, performance pistons, twenty ball race bearins on her crankshaft, a supercharger givin' a boost a' fifty brake horse, NOS fer another thirty, K&N air filters, outsize carbs… all in she's puttin' out just over three hundred an' sixty brake horse at th' back wheel."

All that didn't mean much to Akane.

"Wow, man. That thing's got like serious grunt, man." Kasumi murmured. Apparently it meant something to her.

"Yeah, she's a fuckin' rocketship. Problem is she's sensitive as Hell, she's always holein' pistons an' smashin' up her gearbox. Hell, she's eaten six cylinder heads over th' years, and mangled any number a' valves. One time she shot her number two piston through th' bottom a' the crankcase… I sometimes wonder if I've pushed th' performance envelope too far, but hell, it's worth it."

"Too right, man." Kasumi agreed, coming over and critically examining the damaged gearbox. "You don't like tune up an engine because you need to, you tune it up because you **can**."

"Fuckin' A-1." Ranma said, nodding.

Kasumi nodded and started helping him fish smashed up bits of gear out the box; her slender fingers worked somewhat better than his meaty paws.

"My car's needing like new NOS jets, man." She remarked.

"Yeah? What's th' problem?" Ranma asked, handing her the tweezers.

"Like too small calibre, man. I like rebored the engine, right man, and now the nitrous boost's all gone squiffy."

"I gotcha. Hey, I'll rig ya a set up, huh?"

"Like thanks, man. You like get some breakfast, I've eaten, I'll like get the rest of this out your like gearbox, man." Kasumi instructed.

Ranma grinned.

"Thanks." He said, standing up.

"Like no sweat, man." Kasumi said, completely focused on the gearbox.

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All that was why, a bit later, Akane and Ranma were slouching down the high street side-by-side.

"So these guys are good, huh?" Ranma asked.

Akane nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, they stock the best materials and tools you can get in Japan. Hell, they import a lot of stuff from the EU or the States – their gear's absolutely top-of-the-line."

"Cool. Ya need decent tools ta do quality work." Ranma grunted

"HOLD, KNAVE!" the last voice Akane had wanted to hear bellowed.

"Aw **shit**. Kuno." She muttered.

Ranma was taking absolutely zero notice; he probably hadn't even registered the yell was directed his way as he slouched towards the industrial supplies centre that, coincidentally, was right across the street from Tokyo's foremost martial arts suppliers.

"Ranma!" she warned as Kuno came barging across the street waving a bokken.

"Wot?" Ranma said, turning round. He blinked, utterly confused, as the demented kendoka arrived in front of him.

"Who art thou, that makes familiar with the beauteous Akane Tendo?"

Ranma cocked his head.

"D'ya know this guy?" he asked Akane.

"His name's Tatewaki Kuno." Akane said with a heavy sigh. "He's in Nabiki's year at school. He's obsessed with me, to the point of attacking my friends."

Ranma didn't miss the way her hand had gone into her jacket.

He turned back to Kuno.

"My name's Ranma Jaku Saotome." He said. "I'm th' heir ta th' Saotome school o' Anythin' Goes. Ya know that abandoned lot behind Akane's house? Our house usta be there, had Dad's bike shop as th' lower floor, only it got burnt down by arsonists while we wuz at a bike rally about thirteen years back. We're stayin' wiv Akane's family while we're rebuildin', my dad an' Akane's dad go way back."

"Staying under the same roof as Akane? I forbid it! No man could resist the temptation to prey upon her dark beauty for long!" Kuno ranted.

"Gimme a fuckin' break." Ranma told him, having a root around in his pocket and finally coming out with a battered old wallet; he flipped it open and gave Kuno a look at the photo of Xian Pu he had inside.

"And she might be?" Kuno asked, puzzled.

"Her name's Xian Pu O'Conner." Ranma explained. "She's half-Irish, half-Chinese, a heavy metal rock singer-songwriter-guitarist, six weeks pregnant and me wife."

"Pah! A trifle! No true man could hold some gaijin trash over-"

Ranma hauled out his P7 and shoved the loud end in Kuno's face.

"**Smile when you call her that, motherfucker**." He spat.

Kuno froze. The 9mm bore of the compact handgun seemed to completely eclipse his vision with it's rifled maw.

"You…" he said.

"I'm only gonna say this once, so listen up and listen real good." Ranma snarled. "You can call me what the fuck you want, you can give me shit, you can get in my face, you can start fights, but if you badmouth my wife one more time I am going to blow your fucking head **clean off**. Got me?"

Kuno tried to stare the gun barrel down. Sweat stood out on his forehead; a damp stain appeared around his crotch, and he gracelessly passed out from the strain.

Ranma sighed and put the gun away.

"Fucktard." He said.

"Kuno was not what I needed today." Akane grumbled, stomping around a bit.

"Ya just stepped in somethin' unpleasant." Ranma pointed out, indicating the fact the heel of her boot was now firmly in Kuno's groin.

Akane ground her foot in a bit, then sighed.

"C'mon, let's go get that titanium." She said.

Ranma nodded and followed her into the industrial suppliers with the mental equivalent of a shrug.

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Six bikers were sat outside the bar. All of them were members of the Hellhounds MCC, and on this hot dry day they were taking a break from the long ride to Daytona and having a beer at the edge of Death Valley.

When the roar of another bike came echoing across the desert they all looked up, then blinked in astonishment at what they saw.

The bike was a dog-ugly jumble of parts, being ridden by an Asian guy, and it was _soaked_. In the middle of a _desert_, it was downright _saturated_. This did of course mean it was steaming (which Pigbog privately thought looked kinda cool) as well as dripping.

"How?" Bubba Fatass said.

"Dunno." Greaser muttered as the rat hove to.

"Interestin' machine you got there, son." Toecutter remarked, standing up. "How'd it get so wet?"

The ungainly machine's rider pushed his goggles up, glanced around, and looked faintly puzzled.

"It was raining." He said in a lightly-accented voice.

"Raining? This is the fucking desert you stupid fucking Nip!" Mutt complained, standing up. The Asian guy seemed not to take any offence; he just grinned slightly and wrung his long hair out. The water hissed as it hit the sun-baked tarmac.

That just incensed Mutt even more; he took a swing at the Asian, who ducked under the punch and pulled something off his back; that something was the biggest monkey wrench any of the six had ever seen. He whirled it round and slammed the end into the road with such force it shattered the tarmac.

"I'm not interested in a fight." He said.

Mutt considered that for a long moment. The kid had just driven that wrench six inches into solid tarmac – strong didn't start to describe it.

"Back off, Mutt." Toecutter instructed.

Mutt backed off. The Asian smiled and returned his monkey wrench to its sheath.

"So, what kind of machine is that anyway?" Bubba Fatass asked.

The Asian slapped his bike's fuel tank.

"Piece from here, piece from there." He said. "My brother built it. The engine's from a Triumph Speed Triple. Frame's half Yamaha, half Ducati. Fuel tank's just the biggest old tank we could find. The rest of it's junk – back wheel from a van, downpipes made from wheelbarrow handlebars, forks made from an old metal gate – but hey, whatever works."

"How much'd it cost you?" Greaser asked, sounding a bit doubtful at the thought of a bike that wasn't made by Harley-Davidson. He would have sounded disgusted if it wasn't for the fact that the Asian's bike seemed to be a thoroughly impressive piece of engineering.

"Nothing." Came the reply. "We steal parts from scrapyards."

The six Hellhounds stopped trying to maintain their hard-man mask and looked faintly impressed.

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Arriving at the checkout with a suitable hunk of metal slung over his shoulder (causing several people to go a bit pop-eyed) Ranma deposited it on the desk (causing said desk to creak) and said, "How much?"

The reaction of the unfortunate clerk was of course entertaining, as was the reaction when Ranma hauled out a fat roll of banknotes to pay for the sizeable chunk of titanium, but the staff abruptly relaxed when they figured he was with Akane.

"I just gotta get something." She told him. "Wait here, couldja?"

"Sure." Ranma said, standing the lump of titanium on one end and leaning on it.

"Guess you know the Tendos?" the clerk asked.

Ranma shrugged.

"Barely. Dad an' her dad go way back. We're stayin' at their place till we get th' bike shop back tagether." He said.

"Ah." The clerk said, nodding. "You'd be Genma's son, right?"

"Right." Ranma grunted, not really interested.

"Be careful around Akane." The clerk said. "She's a nice girl, but she carries a **big** **gun**."

Ranma chuckled.

"I know." He said. "It's a real pain she's gay, ya know. Short, intense, attitude like a shotgun blast, smart, an' she's an engineer… she'd have trouble gettin' much more attractive."

Akane came wandering over with a large square plastic hardcase in her hands, with which she was obviously inordinately pleased; she hefted it onto her shoulder and the two slouched out, Ranma casually toting the whacking great slab of titanium like it weighed nothing.

Halfway back, Ranma's eyes started flicking to the wing mirrors of parked cars. His expression turned into a frown.

"Don't look now." He said.

"What at?" Akane asked.

"Guy two blocks back. Think he's followin' us." Ranma grunted. Akane realised he was using the wing mirrors to check out behind them.

"He's probably a raver or a trendy who thinks since I'm not with any of my normal crew he might be able to jump me." she said.

"Ain't so sure about that." Ranma said. "He's walkin' kinda funny an' there's somethin' seriously wrong wiv his ki."

"You what?" Akane asked, thrown off track.

Ranma grunted. "Dad's taught me some pretty advanced techniques, includin' seein' ki. That guy back there, his ki ain't th' right sort. It's… brown. People got yellow ki. He's about five two, mebbe much as five four. Trilby hat, wrapround sunnies, scarf pulled up over his face, long dark coat."

"Okay, definitely not a trendy, might be a raver but it's not likely." Akane said.

"We turn inta th' next side street." Ranma said, then very shortly thereafter put action to word. About ten feet in, he stopped and turned round.

The two waited in silence until the man shambled past, then relaxed slightly.

Ranma glanced at Akane. "Did ya see what I just saw?"

Akane nodded. "His proportions were all wrong, weren't they?"

"Yeah. Too much limb, not enough body, an' his joints in th' wrong places."

They stepped back into the street, and stopped dead in their tracks, astonished.

There was absolutely no sign of the man.

"What in the fuck?" Ranma asked.

Several sets of eyes peered out of under the lip of a manhole as Akane and Ranma bemusedly walked away.

"See you pal, are they bigjobs offski?" a voice asked.

"Shuttit or I'll kick yer heed in yeh whee skoyt!"

"Stitch this pal!" Thud. Splash! "Och crivvens, I'm aw covert in jobbies!"

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As he rolled down the highway with his six new friends, Ryoga contemplated how odd life could be. The Hellhounds styled themselves 'outlaw bikers', but all of them had steady jobs and lived in a nice district; Bubba Fatass was also know as Jason Lewis, and he worked as a forklift driver, for example. When the six realised they were dealing with a very real nomad biker – someone who lived in the saddle, foraged to eat, stole fuel, and got parts from scrapyards – they'd been mightily impressed.

He and the six were now a touch drunk and on their way to Daytona for Bike Week. Ryoga hadn't planned on going (he rarely planned on anything) but he'd long since learned to accept wherever the tides of his life decided to take him. If his wandering fate was directing him to America's biggest bike rally, it was probably doing it for a reason, and even if it wasn't – hell, it was directing him to a biker party, he wasn't going to complain about that.

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"Kuno's why I started carrying a gun." Akane suddenly said.

Ranma grunted. The two of them had been back for about an hour, and he was currently marking out the gears on his hunk of titanium in preparation to begin cutting.

"I came out when I was eleven." Akane continued, flopping back on the sofa. "He's been fixated on me since we were little… he was bugging me all the way through grade school, then when I started going out with Hanako he went berserk. He stood up in front of the whole school and came out with this rant about how I was possessed, and they had to beat the demon out of me… The next day, about thirty guys attacked me when I walked into the schoolyard. My friend Kaori pulled me out… I was in hospital for three weeks, and didn't go back to school until I'd made a half reliable gun. The next time they came at me I pulled it out and threatened to shoot anyone who got too close… I still can't figure if I was bluffing or not."

Ranma put his scribe down.

"D'ya want me ta help?" he asked.

"Help? Help with what?"

"Well, it's obvious yer stuck on what ta do about them pricks, right?"

"… yeeees."

"So, ya want me ta see if I can come up wiv anythin'?"

"I don't see why not." Akane said with a shrug. "It can't hurt."

Ranma nodded, picked his scribe back up, and resumed making careful marks on the metal.

"Nah. It ain't th' first time I've dealt wiv bigots."

"Huh? How so?" Akane checked.

Ranma sighed.

"Ryoga came out when he wuz thirteen. We were livin' next door ta this reform school; real rough place. Anyway, Ryoga got tagether wiv onea th' guys from th' reform school, right, an' anyway th' rest a' 'em found out. Next thing we know Ryoga an' Yoshi gotten jumped. Yoshi got th' shit kicked outta him real bad; that wuz five years ago an' he's still inna coma. Ryoga hospitalised like thirty guys before me an' Michie an' Dad heard th' racket an' gotten involved. Good thing too, they managed ta drag Ryoga down right about when we came round th' corner. He's strong as an entire team a' oxen, but there wuz like fifty guys on him, mosta 'em wiv knives an' nailguns an' stuff. Dad went ape-shit, ripped a street sign outta th' ground an' laid inta 'em. Next day we stormed that goddamn reform school an' beat th' ever-livin' crap outta everyone what wuz parta th' gang what nearly killed Ryoga's boyfriend. I later found out we killed six a' 'em."

"Oh." Akane said. "You're a pretty intense guy, you know that? Does everything turn that intense with you?"

Ranma shrugged.

"Nah, but when it gets intense it gets _real_ **intense**, ya know?"

Akane nodded gloomily, thinking about her life.

"I know the feeling." She said.

"Good afternoon, boss-lady." a cynical voice remarked from the direction of the patio. This voice belonged to a tall, very handsome, oddly noble-looking guy with short black hair that stuck straight up, dressed in a black leather trenchcoat, small circular mirrorshades, and lumpy great rock boots.

"Aha, Satoshi." Akane said. "Come on in."

Satoshi nodded and slouched into the living room, clinically examining the partially-disassembled bike and the screwed-up gearbox. He then turned a mirrored glare on Ranma.

"I don't know you." He said. "Who are you?"

"Name's Ranma Saotome." Ranma grunted.

An eyebrow appeared from behind the mirrorshades.

"Interesting. As in, the son of Genma Saotome and Nodoka Moroboshi?"

"Yup, that's me. Why? There more'n one Ranma Saotome runnin' around?" Ranma asked, pausing in his marking-out

Satoshi smirked.

"So the game is afoot." He said. "Call me Satoshi."

Ranma put his scribe down.

"If yer tryin' ta creep me out, give it up." He stated, annoyed.

Satoshi made a placating gesture.

"Oh, don't sweat it." He said. "Under the shades and the trench I'm a complete and utter coward. I quail from threats. I flee from any hint of-"

"Oh shut the fuck up already, Satoshi." Akane complained.

Satoshi shrugged.

"So, anyway. No sign of the others yet, huh? We expecting anyone?"

"Gos, Kaori, Dai, Roshi, and my girls." Akane said. "No sign of any of them yet, though. I'm starting to wonder-"

"Well, talk about not taking notice of your surroundings. You're slipping, gorgeous." A rich contralto voice said, as a short stocky shaven-headed guy came sauntering up to the house.

"Hey, Kaori." Akane said. "Was thinking about something else."

"Okay, fair enough." The boy with the female voice said, sauntering over. "Anyway, I know Gos is on his way, but he had to dodge his brother. Dunno about Dai and Roshi, I think Dai said he was picking the car up today. Your pets are about a block behind me." He settled himself on the second sofa and critically examined Ranma; Ranma critically examined him back. The boy named Kaori was short, stocky, had half a millimetre of blonde hair and was dressed in a black suit fit for a funeral.

'He' also had slight but noticeable breasts.

Kaori suddenly smiled as Ranma figured out what gender this person was.

"Kaori Sonoda." She said.

"Ranma Saotome." Ranma replied.

"Beer." Satoshi stated, passing Kaori a can.

"So who are you, apart from Ranma Saotome?" Kaori asked.

"He's the son of this mad old biker who's an old friend of Dad's." Akane said.

"We're th' ones who usta live other side o' that wall." Ranma said, jerking his thumb towards the back of the house as he set the slab of metal down with his other hand; the marking-out was done.

"What happened to that bike?" Kaori asked, nodding at Ranma's bike.

"Too much power fer steel ta handle." Ranma said with a shrug. "Second gear basically disintegrated, so I'm rebuildin' th' gearbox in titanium."

"Aha, another engineer." Satoshi said with a nod, proffering a beer. "Hey, have you seen Akane's siege engines yet?"

"Nah." Ranma grunted, accepting the beer and grinning as he saw Xian Pu enter the room; she had Rei in her arms. She set the listless raven-haired girl down in an armchair then came bouncing over to Ranma.

"Top of the morning to yeh!" she said. Ranma caught her by the shoulder and pulled her into a sitting position beside him.

"It's too fuckin' early in th' day fer them acrobatics." He grumbled, noting another pair of people entering the garden. These two were very obviously female, and were identically dressed; black denim jeans, subdued black pullovers, rock boots, studded belts, long hair, and dog collars. Aside from their apparel they were significantly different; one was tall and graceful with skin even paler than Xian Pu's and hair as black as midnight, the other short and stocky with deeply suntanned skin, green eyes and electric blue hair. They headed straight in through the French windows and seated themselves on the floor each side of Akane's feet.

"Damnit, where the fuck are Dai and Roshi? Where the fuck is Gos?"

"Gos is right here. I sometimes have to wonder, am I invisible or are you simply too busy staring at your girlfriends breasts?" a scrawny, pallid apparition in an Alienware T-shirt, trenchcoat, bifocals and trashed jeans remarked, sloping in round the corner of the window. He ensconced himself beside a power point, pulled a laptop that matched his T-shirt out of his pack, plugged it in and switched on.

"I've got that new Apoptygma Berzerk album, Satoshi." He continued, appearing a CD-Rom in jewel case and handing it to said luminary, who cackled gleefully and unearthed a personal CD player; Akane made a warning noise, Satoshi handed the CD over, and she put it into the stereo. Gos looked smug, then looked at Ranma and Xian Pu.

"Unfamiliar life-forms detected." He stated. "Who or what are they?"

Ranma chuckled, deciding he liked this guy.

"I'm Ranma Jaku Saotome; th' bike's mine, an' th' purple-haired chick's also mine." He said.

"Name be Xian Pu." Xian Pu said. "Sorry no speak Japanese so good. Xian Pu still learning."

Akane smirked.

"You two, this is master-hacker Hikaru Gosunkugi; he refuses to acknowledge his first name, so call him Gos." She rested a hand on the blue-haired girl's head. "This is my girlfriend, Sayuri Mishima." She rested her hand on the dark-haired girl's head. "This is my girlfriend, Yuka Takayama. We're expecting our friends Daisuke Shinohara and Hiroshi Kishino, but apparently they're collecting a car."

"Th' car wouldn't happen ta be a black Subaru Impreza, would it?" Ranma asked.

"I've got no idea. Why?" Akane checked.

"Coz one just pulled up outside." Ranma said, shrugging.

"Figures Dai gets a nice car." Kaori remarked. "Bloody rich kids."

"Oi." Akane said, glaring at her. "Hey Dai, hey Roshi, c'mon in."

The two boys the Impreza had disgorged were dressed in the usual trenchcoats, but were otherwise dissimilar. One was tall and thin with sandy blonde hair in spikes, the other was short and a bit tubby with long brown hair in a ponytail. The blonde one gestured towards the car.

"Aaaand the Dai-ster scores again!" he declared. "As Grandpa promised, a black Subaru RS Impreza Turbo and it's aaaallll mine! I am now going to be pulling aaaalll the chicks out of under the boy racers snot-dripping noses. Whatcha think, crew?"

"Nice car." Satoshi said.

"What dickhead said." Kaori remarked. Ranma noted that Satoshi seemed to have absolutely no objection to the boyish girl calling him a dickhead.

"Let's have a look." Akane said, standing up; everyone trooped out to the car along with her, with Ranma and Xian Pu trailing along behind.

It was indeed a black Subaru Impreza. Ranma found himself feeling distinctly underwhelmed as he considered the car and everyone else admired it.

"Bleah." He said. "Pop th' hood."

"Huh?" Daisuke asked.

"Pop th' hood. Ya know, gimme a look at th' motor."

"Do you know about engines, then?" Hiroshi asked. Ranma smirked.

"Built th' bike what's got th' gearbox off." He said. "When I wuz nine."

"… I guess you do know about engines then." Hiroshi said. Daisuke popped the hood, allowing Ranma to critically examine the engine.

"Hmm." He said.

"Ranma, what are you plotting?" Akane asked.

"Well, I wuz thinkin' a rebore oughtta give ya another 200cc capacity." He said. "Then ya could fit a twin-turbo setup, mebbe gasflow th' heads, short-throw crank, since it gotten electronic fuel injection ya can superchip it an' ya wanna remap th' ECU ta give more low-end grunt, mebbe drop th' suspension about four inches, NOS ta give another mebbe fifty brake horse, make sure ya ditch th' rev limiter, mess wiv th' ignition ta squeeze out another couple ponies… yeah, I reckon ya could turn this motor inta somethin' wiv real balls."

"Ponies…?" Sayuri asked, puzzled.

"He's not talking about us." Yuka told her.

"Uh, you could do all that?" Daisuke asked; the words Ranma had been throwing around obviously meant something to him.

"Well, I ain't got th' gear ta mess round wiv engine computers, but if ya can get holda that, then yeah." Ranma told him. "Simplest thing ya could do though, is drillin' th' airbox."

"Um, how do you do that?" Daisuke asked.

"Kay. Th' airbox, that's this, is where yer air filter sits, right? Well, it's got this tiny little hole fer air ta flow through. What ya do is, ya take th' top offa it, ya lift th' air filter out, then ya cut a bloody great hole innit. That means yer engine can draw more air, an' bingo, more power fer bugger all. Ya gotta make sure th' air filter still fits an' is still between yer air intake an' th' outside world or yer gonna fill yer fuel injectors wiv crap, but apart from that it's piss-easy. It's th' cheap an' simple equivalent o' an induction kit."

Daisuke slowly nodded.

"Uh, no offence, but, well, let's just say this car's seriously powerful anyway, right? I passed my driving test a week ago today, so I think it'd be best if I got used to driving the car the way it came out the factory before I start hotting it up." He said. "Truth is, it's awesome and scares the crap outta me."

Ranma chuckled.

"Fair enough." He said. "It's a standin' offer, messin' around wiv engines is me fave hobby an' a nice engine like that deserves some balls."

"In short, nice car Dai." Akane said. Everyone then trooped back inside.

"Dai, Roshi – Ranma and Xian Pu. Ranma, Xian Pu – Dai and Roshi." Akane introduced, getting bored with the act of introduction. The four exchanged yos as everyone resumed sprawling.

"So, anyone got any business?" Satoshi asked.

"Nah. Just a very nice car." Daisuke said.

"Nothing much." Hiroshi said.

"Not me. It's business as usual." Kaori said with a shrug.

"Anyone who wants a copy of the new APB album, gimme two hundred Yen for the blank and I'll get the copy to you ASAP." Gos said. "And don't worry about the band's cut – I've been working on a certain nightclub propertier, and it looks like she'll be organising some European cybergoth bands to come across for gigs."

"Awesome." Akane said. "Keep everyone posted, huh?"

"Roger, willco." Gos said, typing something.

"Some new demo tapes just came off the duper." Sayuri said. "A couple of new bands are on the circuits, and I think you'll like them. I've got copies for everyone. These guys are strictly underground, so no albums yet, but they've got real potential and I think we'll be seeing Gos getting listings soon."

"I think the new people need a proper introduction to what they're getting themselves into." Yuka said, earning herself a light slap from Akane.

"I was getting there." Akane said. "But then, now's as good a time as any."

"So what's yer girlfriend mean?" Ranma asked.

Akane sighed.

"Like I told you yesterday, Nerima has a higher concentration of freaks than anywhere else in Japan." She said. "The freaks are divided into certain cliques, right? It can be over anything; a hobby, a style of dress, taste in music – whatever."

"It is almost to the level of gang warfare." Satoshi remarked.

"But not quite." Akane continued, shooting a quelling look Satoshi's way. "It's more… gang cold-war. I hear there's been some fistfights between the punks and the ravers in the last couple months, and whenever the cosplayers run into the skaters things get a bit tense, and it's not exactly a secret that we try to dry-gulch the kendo club every chance we get, but aside from that it's been only a bit jumpy since the Trebuchet Incident."

"It was really bad before the Trebuchet Incident." Kaori said. "That kinda brought everything into the open."

"A lot of the bigger groups, like the skaters and the ravers, were treating it as a game when they were seriously hurting people." Akane remarked. "When we flung the principle's car through the side of the building, it was a big reality implant for a lot of people."

"Where's all this leadin'?" Ranma asked.

"Each clique has a leader." Akane said. "The kendo club's leader's Kuno. Nabiki's ziabatsu are basically another clique. Gos leads the geeks, in as much as the geeks are a clique – they're more a bunch of loners who occasionally group together for something. I'm the leader of the goths."

Ranma slowly nodded.

"We have to be pretty careful since we're one of the smaller cliques, but we're the only clique with access to guns." Akane continued. "Thanks to Gos, we're in tight with the geeks; thanks to me and Kaori, we're in tight with the gays. We get on pretty good with the punks, the moshers, and the metallers. We really do not get on with the ravers or the trendies, and the kendo club are our sworn enemies."

"We like to lead those bastards into a quiet corner and beat the snot out of them, and not just for the fun of it." Hiroshi quietly stated.

"So what sorta numbers are we talkin'?" Ranma asked.

"Well, us eight are the core of the goths." Akane said. "There's about thirty fringe goths, and a couple hundred part-time goths. Maybe another two or three hundred wannabes who might become goth given enough time."

"It's only a matter of time before it goes to bits." Kaori said. "Things get more tense every week – someone's going to get killed before long."

"Which makes it my job to keep all my people alive." Akane said.

"Is there a biker clique?" Ranma asked. Akane nodded.

"Oh yeah. Kaneda's crew. They're allright, most of them are metallers too, but some of them are arseholes."

"They don't have bikes like yours." Hiroshi said. "They ride like racing bikes and stuff, not black beast machines."

Ranma snorted.

"Sportsbikers." He muttered. "Right. I'll sound things out. But…" He held up one of the not-so-damaged gears. "See this? Solid steel." He closed his hand, then opened it, revealing that he'd crushed the gear.

"Anyone hurts onea my friend's people, they just bought themselves a whole heapin' shitload a' trouble." He said.

"Why Akane leader?" Xian Pu remarked, standing up. Ranma sighed, but nobody took any notice of that. "OK, so Akane gunsmith. Leader need be able fight, no just able make shooter."

Akane likewise stood up, and fixed the half-Chinese girl with a glare.

"How about you come over here and ask that with you fists?" she checked.

Xian Pu nodded. "Xian Pu cool with that." She unfastened her belt and handed the holstered gun to Ranma.

"Akane cool with no bring guns into?" she checked.

Akane nodded, unfastened her shoulder holster, and handed Frankengun 11 to Yuka, who squeaked.

"Bring it on."

Xian Pu smirked, and sprang at Akane, who wheeled round, slammed a hand down on the flying Amazon's back, and tugged something off her belt; there was a double click as said something impacted Xian Pu's wrist then ankle, another item came off Akane's belt as the Amazon hit the floor, and there was another double click.

Xian Pu landed face-down on the floor with her wrists handcuffed to her ankles behind her back.

"There's a fucking reason I'm these people's leader." Akane hissed.

Xian Pu said something poignant, exceptionally rude, and decidedly Irish.

Akane straightened up, then realised what she'd done, and more importantly who to and who in front of.

She'd just used two pairs of handcuffs to hogtie Xian Pu…

… in front of Ranma…

… who happened to be the half-Chinese girl's husband…

… and who was now laughing his arse off.

OK, unexpected reaction.

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The telephone brought Nabiki gradually back to awareness.

She groaned and rolled over, then frowned.

The last thing she knew, she'd been in front of her computer talking to Akane, and had shut her eyes just for a moment. She was now in bed.

She raised her head and looked around. Right enough, she was in her bedroom and her telephone was ringing.

Her telephone!

She grabbed it off it's stand.

"Nabiki here." She said.

"It's Jitsuyama." Came the reply.

Nabiki smiled slightly. Koji Jitsuyama was her main contact in Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

"What've you got for me?" Nabiki asked.

"I need to meet you at the Seven Sisters Café on ninth, at four o'clock sharp." Jitsuyama said.

Nabiki glanced at the clock. She had roughly an hour to get there.

"I'll see you there and then." She said.

"Good." Jitsuyama replied, and hung up.

Nabiki gave the phone a funny look. Odd; Jitsuyama wasn't usually that curt.

**End Chapter.**

Next: Ryoga's intro, Nabiki talks to Jitsuyama, Akane's old girlfriend gets her ass kicked, and probably more.

Slight revision 15/5/07, correction to a glaring inconsistency in the scene between Ranma and Kuno.

**Author's Notes:**

This version has been altered to remove the segment of song lyrics as per the ruling. The correct version is still on my hard drive and will be uploaded once I find a permanent home for Biker ½ and Top Dog.

That thing I said about before the chapter header? The second Top Dog short was attached there, and when I decided to make it a short I forgot to remove my comment from here. Duh. That (and the plethora of typos) will teach me to post when I'm a touch drunk.

The 'She's a nice girl, but she carries a big gun' line was in fact adapted from something that was once said about my elder sister, who used to carry an eight inch filleting knife all the time; the damn thing was so sharp it slit partway through it's own sheath. A friend of the family, while down the local pub, was told 'She's a nice lass, but she carries a big knife' by one of our neighbours, and if you're wondering how that works, I grew up in a tiny ass-end-of-nowhere village called Diabaig on the northwest coast of Scotland. I'm also riffing off Kasumi's 'She's really a very sweet girl; she's just a violent maniac' line in the Ranma ½ manga. It's there, volume 1 in the scene where Ranma wakes up just after Akane slammed him on the head with the table, look it up if you don't believe me.

If there is a real Hellhound MCC, I mean no offence my my depiction herein; I randomly pulled a word out a metaphoric hat and applied it to some biker stereotypes, then gave said biker stereotypes a veneer of realism. Let's face it, prior to the Twin Cam 88, Harleys weren't very reliable, and all Harleys drink fuel like it's going out of fashion. If the 'nomad biker' stereotype exists, he probably rides a beat-up old Honda with the seat made out of duct tape, the carbs held together by cable ties and the cracked exhaust pipe sealed up with Plumber's Mate. Hondas are dirt cheap, economical, and reliable. QED.

I put Gos in an Alienware T-shirt and gave him one of their fine laptops despite having no idea what year Alienware started selling their excellent machines. I did it because I'm writing this on an Alienware laptop and felt like sharing the joy with the cast; these machines are indeed bitchin'.

Boy racers piss me off. I'm not talking about guys who drive cars with some real balls; I'm talking about those fucking pricks in riced Novas who buzz round and round the fucking town centre wasting fuel and causing accidents. People who drive nice cars with real balls are cool. People who drive de-badged granny cars with spoilers like curly poos are not cool. Do the world a favour and wait until you've got something to strut before you start strutting.

The thing Ranma described with drilling the airbox? It works. Here in the UK it has to be listed on your insurance because it works. I'm not sure which year the RS Impreza began, and (like with Alienwares) I can't check right now as my wireless card is refusing to connect to the network. I'll take it over the CC and post this later today once I've got all the varied holes filled in, but I'm sticking with an Alienware shirt and an RS Impreza. If I got either year wrong, well, this story is set in an alternate universe, right?

I guess some people are going to be wondering about the characterisation I've got going on here. The answer's simple and simultaneously complex.

In many fanfics (and some source material) characters deteriorate into a simple cardboard-cutout possessing only their most exaggerated personality traits; an example from many Ranma ½ fanfics would be Akane's violent tendencies and hostility to boys. All too often those traits are all that's left of a character once a fanfic gets under way.

I have removed or dramatically reduced these traits in the cast of Biker ½. Sticking with Akane as an example, she's often referred to as a tomboy, both in fanfiction and in the original. Akane Tendo is not a tomboy. She's not much good at 'feminine skills', but she's not a tomboy. My sister was a tomboy; I know the difference. Akane is markedly girlish as compared to the real-world tomboys I grew up around; what I'm doing here is presenting an Akane who damn well is a tomboy and proud of it, just like so many of the girls I've known or been related to over the years. She's not much like the Akane whom Rumiko Takahashi presented in the original Ranma ½, but then neither is the man-hating psycho-bitch Akane who rears her head all the time in fanfics.

Thanks for reading,

Doghead Out.


	8. Chapter 6

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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_They stare at me dressed in black_

_And when I turn they stare at my back_

_Don't want to be part of their world_

_Don't want to see the things they see_

_Leave, leave me alone_

_Leave me along_

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Ranma silently watched the look of intense embarrassment spread across Akane's face as she realised exactly what she'd done to who in front of whom.

"I-" she started, but he interrupted.

"What've I tole ya about underestimatin' people, Xian Pu? What've I tole ya about goin' easy when ya ain't gotten a feel fer someone's strength? If that wuz fer real, ya'd be dead now." He turned his attention to Akane. "I wanna check somethin'. Gissan arm wrestle."

Now slightly confused, Akane did. Much to her increased bemusement, Ranma didn't push back; he just held his arm upright and frowned thoughtfully. "Huh, thought so." He said.

"What – about?" she asked.

"Yer strength." He said, and rolled her arm over until her knuckles were touching the table; much to her relief it took him a bit of visible exertion to pull off. "I figured ya hadta be pretty strong from th' way ya completely overpowered her. Yer not as strong as me, an' Ryoga's way stronger'n ya, but yer still pretty impressive."

"Ow." Akane grumbled, rubbing her arm. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I can pick up a car an' lift it over me head, an' I'm not talkin' a small car." Ranma stated. "We're pretty fucking' strong, from the feel of it I'm only stronger'n ya coz o' me bigger frame, but Ryoga's gotten himself superpowers. Apparently he drank a whole shitload a' some sorta strength-enhancin' potion just after that thing where his boyfriend gotten put inna coma an' it kinda had a permanent effect on him. He said he nicked it offa this white-haired French guy, but I dunno what ta think about that, he coulda been in Timbuktu fer all I know. But any rate, he wuz pretty fuckin' strong, now he's _insanely_ strong. I've seen Ryoga grab a Land Rover wiv one hand an' fling it a hundred an' sixty feet. It's seriously fuckin' impressive ta see; his strength is completely fuckin' superhuman."

"Akane let Xian Pu go now?" asked an embarrassed-sounding voice from the floor. Ranma's attention was immediately back on the Amazon.

He picked her up, hands under her armpits, and set her kneeling on his lap, then gave her an extremely serious look.

"This Amazon snobbery crap has got to stop." He said, his accent suddenly gone. "That's the third time you've picked a pointless fight, underestimated your opponent, and got your ass handed to you. Me, Dad, now Akane. I've told you time and time again, and I'm tired of you ignoring me. I know you're tense as all get-out, I know you're spoiling for a fight just to blow off some steam, and you damn well know there are people around here willing to spar. Maybe wearing those for a while will get you to take notice."

"Word in private?" Akane asked him; he nudged Xian Pu onto the sofa beside him and hefted himself to his feet with a nod.

"Behave." He instructed the Amazon, and followed Akane.

"So, what'd you think you'd achieve?" Satoshi asked Xian Pu, removing his sunglasses.

A twisted-up grin flickered across the half-Irish girl's face.

"Xian Pu needed check something." She said.

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**Disclaimer: Do not take magic potion without druidic prescription. The effects could be a little alarming.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**With thanks to BlazeStryker for hitting on a really good idea concerning those cartridge cases.**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 6: Raising Hell**

**(In which Ryoga arrives and a club is attended)**

Awakening, Ryoga Hibiki considered his surroundings. Daytona seemed to have wandered away during the night; he shrugged and started stripping his tent down while his breakfast fried on a billy can.

That done, he packed everything onto his bike, fired it up, and turned onto the dusty red-brown dirt track.

A couple of heads peered out of among some nearby rocks. One of said rocks was, on closer investigation, a camouflaged 4x4 pickup truck with a machine gun mounted in the loadbed and a camo net slung over the top.

"Strewth, I wonder where that bloke turned up from? He wasn't there last night eh Stevie mate?"

"She's right DeeTee, no worries. Figure he wandered in from the Dreamtime."

The duo watched the trail of dust peter out, shrugged, collected their stuff, clambered into their ute, and resumed their long-range patrol.

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"What the Hell is Shampoo's problem?" Akane bluntly asked. She and Ranma were now stood facing each other in the dojo.

"It ain't easy on her." Ranma said. "People like ya an' me, we're what I call alpha personalities, right? We're born leaders. I sure as shit an' pigs know I am, an' watchin' ya wiv yer mates I can see ya are too. We're born ta lead, everyone around us can see it, an' they fall in line."

Akane nodded slowly. "And what's that got to do with Shampoo?"

"A lot. She's a follower by nature." Ranma told her. "Thing is, back in Joketsuzo she's expected ta be a leader. She's th' Matriarch's heir; she's th' hereditary leader a' her people, an' they ain't much good at takin' 'piss off' fer an answer. She's been forced ta try ta act like a leader since she knew howta walk, an' she ain't any good at it, she don't enjoy it, but it's sorta become a reflexive reaction, right?"

"Right. So that's why she came at me like that." Akane mused.

"Partially. I figure she wanted ta check how ya'd react. Yer reaction certainly confirmed onea my suspicions." Ranma agreed, nodding.

"And that would be?" Akane asked.

"Simple. Most Amazons have a bit o' a strength fetish. Xian Pu has a fuckin' _serious_ strength fetish. She likes bein' on th' receivin' end." Ranma remarked.

"You're saying she's a submissive, right?" Akane asked.

Ranma nodded. "That's exactly what I'm sayin'. Problem is… well, ya know how people over here are about gays? That ain' nothin' on how heavily th' Amazons come down on a heterosexual female submissive."

"How hard?" Akane asked.

"Exile if they're lucky an' th' Council's feelin' kind. Otherwise, death penalty." Ranma told her. "An' trust me, ya don't wanna _know_ how they execute people. Wiv someone who's supposed ta be their future leader, they'd go completely fuckin' _balls ta th' wind_. That's why Xian Pu O'Conner ran away ta join th' circus; she just couldn't take th' pressure no more so she grabbed her chance an' took off wiv me. We're probably gonna have a few Amazon head-hunters come lookin' fer us sooner or later, but they'll be bitin' off more'n they can chew – me an' Dad can handle anythin' they can throw at us; they push it, they're gonna be pushin' up daisies."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Akane asked.

Ranma nodded grimly.

"Deadly." He said. "I don't joke about shit like this."

Akane nodded distantly.

"Man… what a mind-job." She murmured. "I mean, my, uh, lifestyle is considered socially unacceptable over here… but damn, I just have to deal with a bunch of stupid homophobic jerks, not a death sentence hanging over my head… I wonder how she copes?"

"She ain't copin'." Ranma said. "That's why she's reactin' like she did back there. Heh, th' breakdown weren't as spectacular as I expected."

Akane considered that for a long moment.

"Well, whatever." She said. "I guess you're not exactly planning on letting these Council people do anything about it?"

"Only way they touch a hair in her head is over my cold dead body." Ranma growled.

Akane nodded.

"I make guns for a hobby." She said. "Admittedly, it's partially to have functioning weapons. I mostly make handguns, and a few sub-machine guns. But I've got a dozen rifles, a gun that I based on the FN MAG general purpose machine gun, and a backpack flamethrower. All of them work. I have several hundred rounds of ammunition for each calibre. You need firepower, you talk to me. The day some fucking bigot comes into my town and starts killing people for their sexuality and I don't do what I can to stop them is the day you know I've been replaced by an evil clone from the planet jerk."

Ranma grinned. "I like yer style."

The two young leaders nodded at each other and headed back to the house.

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Nabiki was drinking her third coffee and just reaching her usual level of alertness when her police contact walked in. Jitsuyama looked pretty shook up; he came over and slumped into the seat opposite her.

"That bad a day?" Nabiki asked.

"Nabiki, who the Hell are these people?" Jitsuyama asked.

"… what do you mean?"

"These Saotome people." He said. "Look, I asked around about them, the next thing I know I've got Public Security breathing down my neck!"

"Okay, now that _is_ weird, but it's starting to make a scary sort of sense." Nabiki mused. "They're my prospective fiancée's family."

"Holy shit." Jitsuyama muttered.

"I've met four of them so far, and they're all enigmas." Nabiki said. "Genma Saotome, the father, I can't even find his birth certificate. Nodoka Saotome, the mother – she's probably where Public Security comes into it since her background is, believe it or not, entirely classified. Ranma Saotome, that's the guy I may or may not be engaged to, his paper trail is just bits and scraps. His twin sister is the only one who checks out, and her background's got holes."

"Are you sure they're not involved with the mob?" Jitsuyama asked.

"I asked Genma something about that." Nabiki told him. "He _laughed about it_. He said, and I quote, 'This is way deeper than those thugs'. There was something else… something he called 'clan business'… and something about someone calling themselves 'Akira Saotome'. Jitsuyama, why have you gone so pale?"

"My God, Nabiki… you've got no idea what you're getting yourself into, have you?" Jitsuyama asked. "Believe me, you're dealing with a group of people who make the Yakuza look like the Doreamon fan club. Akira Saotome is something like the bogeyman. Whoever or _whatever_ he is, he's been popping up involved in seriously weird shit up north for _centuries_. We think the name's some sort of title, but we're not entirely certain; hell, he could be some sort of kami for all we know. All we know for sure is, the Clans are a set of secret societies or criminal organisations, we're not sure which, and they've been around since before Japan existed as a nation. Tokyo Advanced Police Department have files on them that fills six shelves, but none of it is solid; it's just ghosts of dead-end leads, rumours, and theories."

"Have you got any contacts that could tell me anything certain?" Nabiki asked.

Jitsuyama slowly nodded.

"Yes." He said, got out a notepad, and wrote down a name and telephone number; he tore the sheet off and handed it to Nabiki.

"Talk to this guy." He said. "But… Nabiki, just… be careful, OK? These are extremely dangerous people we're talking about."

"I always am." Nabiki said, looking at the sheet. "Shinichi Kobayashi?"

"He's a small-time information broker, some ties to the mob." Jitsuyama said. "He's also involved with at least one Clan, I don't know which; he's one of the few sources we've got within their ranks."

"About how many of these Clans are there?" Nabiki asked.

"Just under thirty, we're not sure exactly. Some sources say twenty-six, some say twenty-seven, some say twenty-eight. One source claimed there was thirty-five. Most of the time, looking for information is like walking into a bookshop and asking for the truth about the gods."

"In other words, all you'll get is one thousand flavours of bullshit. Right."

"Pretty much."

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Arriving back at the house, Ranma and Akane were just in time to hear Satoshi say, "-did as advertised and killed the carnivorous palm tree."

"That wasn't my fault." Akane immediately stated, sitting back down. "Anyway. Let's get back on track. Is anyone not making it tomorrow night?"

There was a lot of head shaking and denials.

"I'll go ahead and get tickets." Gos said. "Them?" He jerked a thumb at Ranma and Xian Pu.

"What's th' program?" Ranma grunted.

"Oh, a techno-industrial DJ we know is putting on a show at the rock club over on the edge of Tomobiki district, the Downtown Hellraiser." Akane explained.

"Do you need tickets?" Gos asked.

Ranma snorted. "Aw, what th' hell, might as well. OI MICHIE!"

"You bellowed?" Micheru asked, emerging from behind the couch; she had a notepad in one hand and a biro in the other.

Ranma blinked, somewhat startled by his sister appearing right behind his head. "Uh, sorry, thought ya wuz upstairs."

"Anyway, I think I'll go." Micheru said, then disappeared back down behind the sofa. Ranma peered over the back at her.

"Whatcha doin' down there?"

"The songwriting mojo jumped me." Micheru distractedly told him, and he returned his attention to the goths.

"That'll be three a' us, thanks." He said.

"Songwriting?" Kaori checked.

"Micheru's a violinist." Ranma briefly explained. "An' she writes music, an' she really don't like bein' bothered when she's writin'." He was looking a bit sheepish when he said that last bit.

"Oh, gotcha." Kaori said with a shrug. "So anyway, let's continue filling these guys in on our little situation."

Akane sighed.

"Good idea. Well, anyway, so we've got problems with the trendies, the ravers, the kendo club and occasionally the Furinkan faculty." Akane said. "What they all refuse to comprehend is that we just want to be left alone. Every few months some quack headshrink who thinks all goths are like those stupid wannabes who go shooting up high schools in America turns up and starts in with the stupid fucking questions, and they just won't fucking listen when we tell them we want to be left alone. Hell, all too many of them think wanting to be left alone means you're 'introverted' and a 'loner' therefore 'dangerous'. It scares me how many supposedly professional people can't tell the difference between tabloids and reality."

"They're the sort of people who think the Weekly World News is a real newspaper." Satoshi remarked.

"They refuse to accept the truth." Gos stated. "We are singularly unimpressed with them and their media-driven world; we are not interested in fitting in to social rules that disgust us and we are not willing to sit there and take it when they direct 'peer pressure' – a thinly-disguised form of crass bullying – as per their 'nail that stands up' mandate. Individualism is seemingly not permitted in Japan. We refuse to act like sheep, therefore we are to their view the enemy."

"Look at me." Ranma said. "I've been about a foot taller'n everyone my age I known ever since I can remember. I wuz taller'n ya are taday by the time I wuz eleven. I broke six foot at fourteen. I'm six foot ten an' heavyset, an' I'm still growin'. I fully expect ta be over seven feet tall by th' time I'm done. By American standards I'm massive. By Japanese standards, I'm a giant. I'm gonna stand outta th' crowd no matter what I do, so fittin' in becomes a total moot point. A' course, bein' a six ten powerhouse has it's advantages. Sometimes like when yer tryn'a find clothes that fit ya, it's a pain in th' arse, an' I ain't never seen a bed that ain't about a foot too short fer me. Other times, like when some stupid asshole starts pissin' ya off an' ya stand up an' yer head, shoulders an' chest over 'em, ya suddenly realise just how much ya enjoy bein' this big."

"How old are you anyway?" Kaori asked, critically examining him.

Ranma smirked slightly.

"I wuz seventeen on March 1st." He said.

Satoshi looked up from consulting his watch. "I've got to go."

"What? Why?" Akane asked, startled.

"Dental appointment. Later." With that, the spike-haired boy rose and slouched out.

"… that was abrupt." Gos said.

The group continued chatting for a while, varied members filtering off. The last to go was Kaori, who gave Ranma an exceptionally weird look on the way out; Ranma then dug out his tools and started actually forming metal into gears, and Akane disappeared into the basement with Yuka and Sayuri.

Nodoka stayed for dinner, then headed off; by that time Ranma had completed creating the new first and second gears.

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Akane was just unfastening her belt when someone knocked on the door. She stifled a curse, refastened the belt, and said, "Come in."

Ranma stuck his head round the door.

"Yo." He said.

"I was about to go to bed." Akane pointedly remarked, indicating the duo of scantily-clad young ladies waiting in her bed.

"Figured that when I heard ya sayin' goodnight ta Kasumi." Ranma said. "It's just ya left Xian Pu in them handcuffs, an' I could rip through 'em, but I figured ya'd probably like 'em back intact."

Akane stared at him for a few moments, then said, "D'oh."

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The outlook has changed. This is going to be big. Tell S she was right again. CA is on the verge of joining CS. CJ will definitely arrive with intent before long. Have detected CD, CD2, CD3, CS2, TK, BC & CH watchers, also 3-6 unidentified others. The Usurpers are studying the situation closely. Mundane involvement certain, prognosis is poor. Forecast: thick cloud, low visibility & heavy gunfire.

- KT.

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As Akane Tendo slouched downstairs with Yuka and Sayuri in tow, she noted two things. First off, Ranma was reassembling his gearbox. And second off, someone was tuning an electric guitar. That someone was Xian Pu. She was laying on her back in the middle of the floor, her hair pooled against her, a beat-up old axe laid across her body and plugged into an equally dubious-looking amp.

Xian Pu burst into song, her voice rich and flowing with that Irish accent she had when she spoke English; the trio of newcomers recognised the song on the spot, though they didn't understand a word due to the language barrier.

(Lyrics removed)

Xian Pu fooled around with the guitar line a bit longer than the Lizzy original strictly called for, then ploughed back into the song;

(Further lyrics removed)

Xian Pu finished the immensely long guitar outtro (which takes up more than half the length of the album version) and silenced the guitar with the palm of her hand; she then made a satisfied noise.

"All OK?" Ranma asked, tightening the bolts that held the gearbox to the back of the engine.

"Is so." Xian Pu said with a smug nod, and the guitar came yowling back into life, launching on a loony whirlwind tour of the history of rock and roll, starting off with early Elvis, moving to Wishbone Ash, through several eras of Thin Lizzy, then all of a sudden it was 1984 again as the guitar intro from Maiden's 'Aces High' blasted forth, only to be swept onwards into a virtual tour of the Sisters of Mercy's entire career, finally arriving at something annoyingly catchy and insanely fast that Akane couldn't place; Xian Pu spent a couple minutes getting faster and faster, her fingers blurring over the frets, then suddenly bent it back in itself and into an energetic folk-rock line before letting it all die into silence.

"Wow." Sayuri said.

"Well," Ranma said, straightening up, "Here's another sorta music fer ya."

He swung a leg over his bike, and booted the kickstart. The engine choked once, backfired, spluttered, and then blared into life, spraying a few rust flakes from the short open-ended lengths of pipe it used as exhausts. Yuka and Sayuri immediately clamped their hands over their ears as the unsilenced howl from the 1300cc traverse four shook the house; Akane was made of sterner stuff, and for Xian Pu's part she was enjoying the roar.

Ranma grinned at the varied expressions and gunned the engine a couple of times, causing it to spit fire; the supercharger made an audible slurping noise with each twist of the throttle. Ranma gave Akane's girlfriends a cocky grin that basically said, 'aw c'mon, ain't this cool?'

He put on the pair of goggles that had been hanging around his neck, then clicked the bike into gear, jammed his heels into the ground, and feathered the clutch. The back wheel was almost immediately spinning; a cloud of blue smoke erupted from the tyre, and Ranma laughed out loud as he rotated the bellowing monster on the spot.

Then, sitting forwards to keep the front down, he let go the front brake and did a huge rolling burnout out the gates.

As soon as he was into the road, he crouched low over the tank and wound the throttle open; his grin widened as flies splattered into his teeth, commuters dived the Hell out the way and the front wheel raised itself smoothly off the sun-baked blacktop.

The mad machine was back in business.

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Nabiki, Micheru and Soun had all been effectively awoken by the roar of Ranma's engine, meaning that everyone in the house was actually conscious, though in Rei's case that wasn't saying much.

Half an hour later they were all properly awake and had eaten, and Akane was just starting to wonder how long Ranma was going to be away when a roar from up the street answered that question.

To her bemusement, both Micheru and Genma shot to their feet as the blaring engine closed on the house; Akane didn't realise there was a second bike there until Ranma turned into the driveway with said second bike hard behind him.

This machine firstly made the rides of the other Saotomes look fairly conventional, and secondly was so utterly festooned with stuff as to make the bike itself hard to see. It was an ungainly monster; not a single part fitted in to the whole mess, and adding to the unsightliness it was difficult to tell where the luggage ended and the motorbike began. Since the whole lot had a thick overall coating of red-brown dust it was also difficult to tell the rider apart from the bike and the junk.

Xian Pu stood up with a happy sound and trotted after the two Saotomes; the pair of riders got off their machines and hauled their goggles off.

"God DAMN! Bro!" Ranma yelled, and the two grabbed each other in exaggeratedly macho back-pounding bloke-hugs, creating a tangle that Micheru very promptly joined.

"Good ta see ya, son." Genma remarked, clumping the shoulder of the handsome young man at the centre of the group hug.

"Good to see you too, Dad." The boy said, and Akane suddenly realised who this was as she recognised the voice; it was none other than Ryoga Hibiki.

"Like, long time no see Ryoga man." Kasumi said.

"Woah, this is the Tendo place?" Ryoga asked, recognising several of the nearby people. "Major big-time weird, what're you doing in Auckland, Dad?"

"Er, we're not in Auckland, we're in Tokyo." Genma pointed out. Ryoga blinked.

"You kidding me?" he asked, faintly puzzled. "I thought the Gulf Islands ferry terminal was just three blocks from the Tendo dojo, and four from the army base where they've got the flying saucers in the other direction? Right?"

"In other words yer just as lost as usual." Ranma told him. "Trust me bro, fer anyone else there's a few thousand miles a' ocean between here'n Auckland."

The Saotomes broke up the hug, and Micheru turned to Akane.

"Is it too late to get another ticket?" she asked. "Ryoga really digs techno-industrial and he doesn't get many chances to go clubbing."

"No sweat." Akane told him. "I'll go phone Gos."

"Check it, I just rebuilt me gearbox again, changed th' ratios an' made it outta top-quality titanium! Let's see her knock teeth offa _that!_" Ranma bragged.

"Betcha a six-pack it's chipped a tooth in six months." Ryoga said.

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And that was why there was a Hibiki accompanying the eight goths into the nightclub that evening as well as two Saotomes and an Amazon. Ranma noted with amusement how everyone took one look at what was coming and got the hell out the way; a clear section opened itself in the crowd to let Akane's gang pass, and then warily closed up behind them.

Inside, the club was composed of two floors; the ground level appeared to be entirely dance floor, with the upper level being a ring of broad balcony around the inside of the building, which seemed to be a converted warehouse. The PA rig, stage and DJ's booth was at the far end, and the bar was on the balcony directly above the doors; there were six sets of stairs up and down, spaced at even distances around the perimeter. The place was packed with a wide assortment of goths and a few assorted other kinds of freak, in particular fetishists. Again, the crowd opened like magic in front of Akane's gang and closed up behind them; this continued as they made their way up to the bar, Kaori bought a round of drinks, then they headed for the long narrow table in front of the bar at the edge of the balcony thus looking out over the dance floor; the table magically emptied itself as they approached, and they settled themselves with amiable nods to the assorted persons who were 'just coincidentally leaving'.

The table was basically a very wide banister with a row of bar stools along the inside; the group were rapidly clustered at the centre of this 'table'.

"Ya got a real impact on people round here, Akane." Ranma remarked, sitting down and leaning back against the table.

Akane snorted.

"They know I'm armed and they know I'll only pull it if I have to defend myself." She said. "The fact my friends are here simply makes it less likely that anyone'll try anything."

"Weird." Ryoga remarked. "You sound like this revolutionary writer I met in Baghdad one time."

Akane gave him a cockeyed look, then wrote it off as Ryoga having no idea where he'd actually been.

"So who's this DJ?" Ranma asked.

"Her stage-name's Lucyfer, nobody seems to know who she really is." Akane told him. "She's shit-hot."

"We may have a problem, oh fearless leader." Gos remarked; he'd plugged his laptop into a power point and started it up. "Bandits at twelve o'clock."

"What, where?"

"It's Hanako. Maybe she hasn't seen us." Satoshi said, peering in the direction Gos had indicated.

"**Great**." Akane groaned. "This was **not** what I fucking needed… maybe she hasn't seen us, maybe she hasn't seen us…"

"Wot?" Ranma asked.

"Over there. Girl with the green Mohawk and a leather jacket. Hanako Shatori, my ex." Akane told him, turning round and pointing.

There was a splash; she'd clipped Ryoga's beer with her elbow, flipping it neatly into Ranma's crotch. The curse went off immediately.

"Bollocks." Ranma remarked.

"Oh shit, sorry."

Ryoga stared blankly.

"Uh… bro? That is you, isn't it? What in the fuck happened?"

"Jusenkyo fuckin' happened." Ranma growled. "It's this fuckin' place in fuckin' China, set a' cursed fuckin' springs. I'll tell ya later, fer now suffice ta say cold water turns me female, hot water turns me back ta normal."

"That's got to be awkward." Gos remarked, adjusting his glasses.

"I've heard of this before." Kaori said, scratching her jaw. "Friend of mine ended up there a few years back. Now whenever it rains they call out the giant monster hunters on his ass. I'll go get some coffee." With that she sprung lightly to her feet and slipped off into the crowd.

"Tendo!" someone yelled.

"Fuck." Akane muttered.

"It was too much to hope she wouldn't notice you." Daisuke gloomily remarked.

"You've got a fucking nerve showing your fucking face around here, you dirty little fucking slut." The girl Akane had called Hanako snarled, elbowing her way out the crowd and coming to a halt glaring balefully at Akane.

"Get the fuck off my case, bitch." Akane snapped. "The Downtown's neutral ground, or are you gonna go back on your word?"

"You're a fine one to talk about going back on your fucking word!" Hanako yelled.

"Who dumped who?" Akane asked, cocking her head, her hand inside her jacket in the place her mates knew she had Frankengun 11.

"We've been over this before!" Hanako snarled, hauling a Bowie knife out of her jacket and brandishing it. A circle almost immediately appeared around the goths. "I own you and I'm going to fucking prove it – I'm going to fucking _carve my name in your bitch face!_"

Akane was just about to draw when someone got in the way.

That someone was Xian Pu.

The Amazon stepped between the two, and spat on Hanako's feet.

"Shove off, dog breath." She said.

"Get the fuck out my way you stupid fucking trollop." Hanako snapped.

Xian Pu grinned ferally; here was the chance to beat the snot out of someone, only thing at stake her life, just like she'd been wanting for days.

"Come over here and say that again." she sneered. Hanako obviously didn't understand a word of English, but the tone of voice did the trick; the Japanese girl lunged forwards with her knife.

Xian Pu's leg flashed out; the reinforced toecap of her Russian combat boot smacked into the hilt of the knife, sending it whizzing into the ceiling.

"Bring it on, yeh cunt!"

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Nabiki contemplated the man the other side of the table. Shinichi Kobayashi was a sincerely unprepossessing sight; short even for a Japanese man, in dire need of a shave and haircut, and dressed in a critically rumpled suit with a tie that hadn't been adjusted in months.

"Jitsuyama told me you were the man to speak to." She said. "I need information on four people."

Kobayashi nodded. "Name 'em."

"Genma Saotome, no fixed address. Nodoka Saotome, no fixed address. Soun Tendo, 128 Furinkan Avenue, Nerima district; Nabiki Tendo, same address." Nabiki noted how the man had gone increasingly pale.

"I don't know who you are, but I do know you really want to stay away from the Saotome and Tendo families." Kobayashi said.

Nabiki considered that for a long moment, then withdrew her card from her pocket and handed it over. "I'd have problems doing that."

Kobayashi read it several times, a frown growing on his face. "So why are you running background checks on yourself, Miss Tendo?" he asked.

Nabiki sniffed. "Because I noticed certain lacks of information about myself. That disturbs me, Mr Kobayashi. I want to know what the Hell is going on."

"Shit." Kobayashi muttered. "Listen. I don't know how much I can get away with telling you, and if I go too far we're both in deep shit. For now, let's just say that your family are involved in something that makes the Yakuza look like a knitting circle; I can't be seen talking to you or I'm fucked. I'll set up a dead drop near your house. You know the side alley a lot of people take their dogs to crap in? There's a hole in a tree at the south end of that. You leave fifty thousand cash, I'll swap it for an envelope of information that should get you started. Oh, and Miss Tendo? Don't try to contact me again; it'd get us both killed."

**--- End Chapter. ---**

**Author's Notes:**

NEWSFLASH: Top Dog and Biker ½ are looking for a more permanent home. This home need to enable me to;

- attach graphics to each chapter, probably up to about 500k per image, primarily as chapter header images but possibly more than that; I want to be able to have graphics appropriate to that chapter rather than fucking Zwinkys or noisy smileys.

- post other artwork.

- insert song lyrics into the flow of the story, the exclusion of this being my main problem with this site. Any fanfiction website that would ban Symphony of the Sword has got something _seriously_ wrong with its priorities.

- maintain tight control of formatting, especially the spacing of line returns. Careful use of line returns can make a big improvement to the way a story flows, and scene breaks can become much more fluid.

- insert HTML links into the text of the story, primarily so I can post links to reference images in the author's notes.

- arrange story listings in an in-story chronological order on the website. To see what I mean, check out the Undocumented Features chronological listings on the EPU website.

- connect to a forum. Definitely a necessity. And preferably have a comment thread / guestbook system enabling readers to comment without signing up to a forum, much like here.

My intent is to make Top Dog and Biker ½ a much more 'multimedia' experience, primarily using the stock of character art I'm building up. I don't plan on entirely ditching but some of the things I have planned cannot be posted here for assorted reasons, and I want to be able to control what the reader sees on clicking through to a chapter instead of getting saddled with random adverts.

If anyone's got any suggestions, drop me a line either via PM or in the comment thread for whichever segment of Top Dog you're reading this in. I'm aware I may have to construct a website myself, but I'm hoping to avoid that.

This version has been altered to remove the segment of song lyrics as per the ruling. The correct version is still on my hard drive and will be uploaded once I find a permanent home for Biker ½ and Top Dog.

Between this and Headmaster's Socks, that's five chapters and two shorts in ten days – go me!

If there is any slang or other terminology in the body of this fic that you do not understand, drop me a line and I'll start building a glossary of terms. I use a lot of Scots slang and technical jargon when I'm writing, and I'm aware there's some fairly significant differences between the English we use here in the UK and the variant/s used Stateside. I've had one comment so far about not understanding some of the slang; well, let me know which bits you don't understand and I'll stick it in the as-yet-nonexistent glossary. I'll probably put the stuff I've covered in my varied author's notes into the glossary when I start having one.

Talking of answer-type things, I've got another answer post I'll be sticking up on the Biker ½ Rewrite forum shortly after I post this. Kuro Neko, BlazeStryker, konton (got yer handle right this time I hope) pspinler and Firebird2083, I have answers for all of you.

Don't believe the media bullshit about goths. Goth is a pacifist movement; those school-shoot-tards were not goths, they were a bunch of pathetic wannabes who completely missed the point. When it comes down to it, actual goths just want to be left alone.

Doreamon is a blue robot cat with no ears from the Japanese children's TV series of the same name. I picked Doreamon because A) it's a twee Japanese kid's show so it gets Jitsuyama's point across and B) there is absolutely bugger all chance of me using any of the cast of said show.

Xian Pu was singing an old Thin Lizzy standard; Emerald. If anyone's wondering about the folk-rock guitar riff, think something along the lines of early Wolfstone.

A knitting circle is a group of grannies who get together to knit and gossip. Sort of an OAP's social club. I've got no idea what the Japanese equivalent is, so I'm going with a UK standard.

If you're thinking I've amplified Ryoga's ability to get lost, remember two things. First off, in the first book of the Ranma ½ manga, Ryoga managed to wander from Tokyo to Okinawa, which is on another island across a fairly substantial chunk of open water. And secondly, I've merely mounted the lost boy on a motorcycle he can reliably find. If he was getting that lost on foot, imagine how lost he'd get if travelling at ten times the speed… I may have him get so lost he ends up on the wrong planet (or even in the wrong universe) but I don't know yet. For now, meet a Ryoga who's dealing with his lot in life.

The Gulf Islands ferry terminal is on the waterfront in downtown Auckland, New Zealand. It's where you catch the passenger ferry to Waiheke Island, and therefore has a special place in my heart as Dad lives on Waiheke Island.

Anyway, that's me – catch you all next time.

Doghead Out.


	9. Chapter 7

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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Xian Pu was still grinning like a maniac as she dropped into a defensive stance and made a come-on gesture; Hanako let out a low growl and advanced on her, feinting a couple of times before going for a right hook; Xian Pu blocked it hard, followed the block through to open Hanako's defences, and drove her foot full-force into Hanako's midriff, sending the Japanese punk girl flying backwards across the floor.

"Boy, she really was going easy on you, wasn't she?" Satoshi remarked to Akane, who nodded.

Hanako finished her impromptu flight by breaking the fall and rolling back to her feet on the edge of the crowd; she stared at Xian Pu for a long moment, emitted a guttural roar, and charged.

"You were right, Ranma." Akane said.

Xian Pu ducked the charge with a neat shoulder tackle, and converted it into a throw, pitching the Japanese girl off the edge of the balcony; she let out a high-pitched Amazon war shriek, and leapt after the plummeting figure.

"Wot wuz I right about?" Ranma grunted, turning to watch the in-progress fight over the edge. Hanako was back on her feet, but her left arm was hanging slackly from where Xian Pu had landed on her; the Amazon said something, and the punk girl launched another all-out charge.

"If she'd gone all-out on me, she'd have been able to kick me around like a football." Akane told him, likewise watching as Xian Pu once again slapped Hanako's defences wide open; this time she followed up with a snap kick in the Japanese girl's solar plexus. "I almost feel miffed that she underestimated me quite that much; the rest of me is just glad I didn't get that beat up."

"Ya taught her a valuable lesson." Ranma said with a shrug as Xian Pu leapt up and pile-drivered Hanako into the dance floor. "Thanks." That last was said as Kaori emerged from the swarm and handed a cup of coffee to him; Ranma dipped her fingertips into the coffee, and suddenly fitted his leathers and demeanour again.

"No prob." Kaori said, sitting back down.

"What lesson's that?" Akane asked. Xian Pu was obviously done with Hanako, who was laying at the centre of a substantial dent in the hardwood floor.

"That wuz Xian Pu goin' all out." Ranma said. "How long d'ya reckon ya woulda lasted?"

"Hanako's better than me or Kuno." Akane admitted. "I don't really have anyone else to compare her to, but I know I can't take Kuno without my guns, and the last time Hanako went for Kuno she put him in the hospital; admittedly, he goes easy on girls… I dunno. Against Xian Pu going all out… well, I know for damn sure I couldn't take her without _shooting_ her." She sighed. "Ah well, at least I won't need to worry about Hanako for a few weeks."

"Yeah, but what about the other punks?" Daisuke muttered.

"We can worry about that later." Satoshi told him. "The rest of them respect neutral ground."

"So, what was the lesson anyway?" Akane repeated.

Ranma chuckled quietly. "Never commit ta an attack till ya know what yer committin' ta attackin'."

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**Disclaimer: I'm still trying to think of a good disclaimer joke.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 7: The place we once called home**

**(In which construction begins, and Nabiki gets another nasty shock)**

"OK bro, spill." Ryoga said.

"Huh?" Ranma asked.

"This Jusenkyo think. I want the whole story." Ryoga clarified. "How complete is the change, for a start? Is it just appearance, or does all the, you know, plumbing and stuff work?"

Ranma snorted. "Ya got a mania fer sticky details, ain't ya bro?"

"Oh come on Ranma, you know I've been thinking about getting a sex change for years." Ryoga said, shrugging. "I'm thinking that this Jusenkyo thingy sounds like a safe and easy way and a _proper_ way if the change is complete. If I'm right, it'd turn me into an actual woman instead of just a surgically altered guy, right?"

Ranma snorted again. "I getcha. Listen, bro. Th' setup is this big valley fulla springs, right? Ya know them balance trainin' setups where there's bamboo poles set up in real cold pools? It's onea them. Each a' th' springs turn anyone who falls inta it inta somethin' different. I gotta admit, me an' Dad totally ignored th' guide dude; I punched Dad inta onea th' springs anna fuckin' panda come out, right? Well, I got so fuckin' confused th' panda managed ta boot me inta onea 'em. Dad sez he hadn't noticed he'd changed shape."

"Typical bloody Dad." Ryoga grumbled.

"Yeah, daft bastard." Ranma agreed.

"I woke up about then." Micheru said. "We'd camped out on the edge of the road just below the training ground, we arrived about two in the morning the night before, and it was me got Ranma calmed down enough to listen to the Guide's explanation. Not that I had a clue who Ranma was right then; so there's this short-ass redhead dressed in a gi as raggy as Ranma's."

Ranma snorted. "So anyway, I asked about cures an' th' guide dude said he'd take us someplace where they knew th' deal wiv these curses, this nearby village, right? So anyway we headed down there. Man, when Dad saw th' place he got totally tense! I kinda pissed this chick off, or mebbe she just wanted ta kick someone's head in, an' anyway she challenged me ta a fight. Well, I clobbered her good then went ta see what th' deal wuz wiv Dad; there he is talkin' in this language I don't know ta this shrivelled-up ol' woman what weren't no taller'n my knee, an' he's fuckin' freaked, like she's th' fuckin' devil or somethin'. One thing kinda led ta another, an' anyway when we came away Xian Pu wuz wiv us, she's th' chick who picked a fight wiv me, an' it seems I accidentally married her by beatin' her. Man, it's a good thing it wuz me she picked a fight wiv an' not Michie, she woulda got her ass handed her an' then she'd a' hadta go hunt Michie down." Ranma shrugged and made a throat-slitting gesture.

Ryoga blinked. "You telling me she's a Joketsuzoku, man? Holy fuck, you sure can pick 'em bro! That's one firecracker you got yourself there."

"Ya heard a' 'em?" Ranma asked, startled.

Ryoga nodded. "Hell yeah. I ran into this chick called Lo Shin one time I was in Seattle, her husband runs this great little bike shop there, it's about six blocks south of the Eiffel Tower. Anyway we got talking while Kelly was fixing my gearbox, and she explained she used to be a Joketsuzoku but she got kicked out. She told me a load about them, warned me to watch my step or I'd find myself accidentally married."

Ranma nodded. "I'd be willing ta bet ya weren't in Seattle bro."

"So would I." Ryoga instantly said. "Let me guess, they don't have bike shops in Seattle?"

"No, they don't have Eiffel Towers in Seattle." Akane told him. "There's an Eiffel Tower here in Tokyo and another one in Paris."

Ryoga processed that for a long thoughtful moment. "OK. Eiffel Towers mean Japan or Mozambique."

"Paris is in France, Ryoga." Ranma pointed out.

"You know what I'm like with directions." Ryoga said with a shrug.

"Xian Pu clean house." Xian Pu smugly remarked, arriving back at their location and taking a slug of beer.

"Who's your friend who's been at Jusenkyo?" Akane asked Kaori. "Anyone we know?"

"Nah, met him back in Okayama." Kaori said. "He calls himself Mortise."

Xian Pu flinched and touched her hand to her heart, muttering, "Fuil-marbhan" but nobody took any notice of that, apart from Gosunkugi, who gave her an odd look and Googled it.

"It's his old stage name," Kaori continued. "He used to be the front man and lead guitarist in a small-time death metal band and the name stuck. He's a big guy and he's got a heavy frame, but he's built like a power pole – hardly a gram of meat on his bones. Anyway, he's from China originally, the same sort of region as Jusenkyo. Believe it or not he was born in Jusenkyo valley and baptised in one of the cursed springs."

"So which did he get?" Micheru asked.

"Spring of drowned Yeti riding Yak while carrying Crane and Eel." Kaori said.

"That sounds _really_ screwed up." Micheru told her.

"That's because it _is_ really screwed up."

Ranma turned to Xian Pu. "What's wiv th' area yer from?" he asked. "It gotten uranium deposits or somethin'? Th' number a' metallers it turns out, there's gotta be heavy metal in th' bones a' th' land round there."

"Xian Pu no know." Xian Pu said.

Over the following few hours, they hung out, listened to expertly-mixed techno-industrial, drank beer, danced a bit, drank more beer and all ended up a touch drunk.

As for Xian Pu O'Conner, she had three beers and was _guttered_. Halfway through her fourth she curled up in a little bundle on Ranma's lap and passed out, much to his bemusement.

"Big tough Amazon, asses kicked while ya wait, crackshot wiv a Kalashnikov, can't handle her booze." Ranma grumbled.

The Amazon hiccupped weakly from his lap.

Eventually, the gig of course came to an end, and the group headed home, glad they hadn't come by bikes since Xian Pu was currently draped like an unnervingly nubile scarf across Ranma's shoulders.

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Ryoga Hibiki woke up. Finding himself not in his tent, he marked today up as unusual; looking around, he found himself where he'd gone to sleep, on his bedroll in the middle of the Tendo living room, which was highly unusual. The fact that the Tendo house hadn't snuck off somewhere while he was sleeping presumably meant he had something he needed to do here.

There were two things that, mixed together, had been enough to wake him; the cheerfully violent sounds of his father and brother training, and a very delicious scent of home cooking.

He sat up, collected a change of clean underwear (socks and boxers) from his pack, counted the remaining clean sets, frowned (only three sets. Hopefully he'd find a laundrette before long) and pulled on one of his many threadbare muscle-T's.

He pulled on his leather trousers, carefully placed his bike's ignition keys in the middle of his bedroll, and headed for the French window, through which he could hear and see the training session.

That is of course why he stepped out through the French windows and into the kitchen via the back door. This completely failed to disconcert him; he was used to that sort of thing.

"Hi, Kasumi." He said, settling himself on one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

"Like, morning Ryoga man." Kasumi distractedly said, continuing to carefully grind something into powder. Ryoga took a closer look, and realised it was in fact cannabis resin.

"You smoke?" he asked.

Kasumi flinched. "It… keeps the voices away." She mumbled.

"What voices?" Ryoga asked. "Are you sure you shouldn't be seeing a psychiatrist or something if you're hearing voices?"

Kasumi miserably shook her head.

"It's not like that, man." She whispered. "The voices… they're _dead people_, man… they want to like take me over because I can hear them, and Mommy tries to keep them away but she can't all the time and I'm _scared_."

Ryoga looked at her for a long time, then untied the thong that he had around his neck; he gave it to her.

"This is a special jade carving." He said. "A Maori mystic gave me it two years ago; he said I should carry it and give it to the person who needed it, and he said I'd know who they were when I talked to them."

Kasumi looked at it. It was a complex curving shape, all curved leaf-like or maybe knife-like sections forming a strange sigil.

"You were always so kind to me when we were little." Ryoga said. "You didn't tease me for getting lost. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I hate seeing you like this. I dunno if the jade will help, but… well, the guy who gave me it said it was to ward off evil spirits."

Kasumi picked the carving up and laid it in her palm. Her eyes went unfocused and she stared off into the distance for a long moment.

Then, just when Ryoga was getting a bit worried, he suddenly had a wailing Kasumi Tendo clinging to him and trying to get out thanks between her tears, the jade pendant clenched so tightly in her hand that it had cut her, and Ryoga was therefore completely and utterly confused.

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Nabiki Tendo woke up. She wasn't hugely happy about this; a quick check of her to-do list revealed that no, she hadn't been dreaming, all this weird shit really was going on, and yes she really had stuffed an envelope containing fifty thousand Yen into a hollow section of tree last night.

"Great." She muttered, shuffling through to the bathroom. A somewhat more awake Nabiki came shuffling out of the bathroom a few minutes later, went back into her room, came out actually dressed in something that wasn't pyjamas, and headed downstairs. Breakfast wasn't ready yet, so with a mental shrug she headed round to Dog Shit Alley and checked inside the hollow tree; her hand found an envelope and, tugging it up so it was visible, she noted that it wasn't the one full of money she'd left there the previous night and stuffed it in her pocket. Kobayashi had been good to his word; the next step was finding out exactly what he'd given her.

Arriving back in the house with the envelope tucked carefully in her jacket, Nabiki noted that food was now being put on the table, so she changed course, seated herself, and started taking notice of the conversation.

"Assuming Tokyo doesn't wander off someplace, what're we gonna do today?" Ryoga asked.

"Same thing we do every day bro." Ranma told him. "_**Try ta take over th' world**_!"

"Naaaarrrf!" Micheru and Xian Pu chorused.

"Itoh will be round after lunchtime with the excavator." Soun remarked. For some reason, he sounded distracted and annoyed, a most un-Sounlike state of affairs.

"A-1." Genma replied with a nod, apparently missing Soun's state of mind. "Oi Ranma, gonna gimme a hand gettin' th' resta that junk cleared offa th' site?"

"Sure Dad." Ranma said. "Ain't much left."

"So we're getting the footings dug today, huh?" Micheru asked. "Didn't take long for the planning application to go through."

Genma nodded enthusiastically, helping himself to bacon. "Well, we're replacin' a plot fulla junk wiv a buildin' much like wot wuz there before. I wrangled it as rebuildin' a ruin rather'n buildin' new, makes th' plannin' easier that way. Same goes fer usin' a steel frame."

The conversation remained on the subject of the new Saotome home (and giving Xian Pu unhelpful advice about getting Rei to eat) until they'd finished breakfast, at which stage it received an interruption when Soun (who was still acting like a bear with a sore head) picked up his newspaper (which had been laying face down) and opened it at the financial pages; Nabiki grabbed the newspaper with a wordless cry of shock, leaving her father blinking aggravatedly at his now-empty hands.

The front-page headline was about a murder on the edge of Nerima. A man had been gunned down in a drive-by attack in the early hours of the morning; the scene of the attack was the Juuban end of Furinkan Avenue, and the man had been pronounced dead on arrival at Juuban General Hospital; the car had been found on fire in a back street in Shinjuku less than an hour later.

There was a grainy photograph of the victim, and Nabiki recognised him immediately. After all, she'd left fifty thousand yen in a hollow tree for him less than an hour before he died.

He was unmistakably Shinichi Kobayashi.

She dropped the newspaper and ran headlong upstairs, completely unaware of the stunned silence that had eclipsed the breakfast table.

Ranma picked up the newspaper, spun it round, and read the article, his expression getting more and more concerned as he read.

"That's weird." He muttered.

"Figure she knows that guy." Genma said, peering round Ranma's shoulder.

"How would Nabiki know a Hak low-life like Kobayashi?" Soun muttered, and headed for the back room, a worried look in his eyes to compliment the annoyance.

Ranma sat and silently contemplated the photo of the dead man for a long moment, then stood up with a deepening frown.

"Somethin'," he said, "Stinks. C'mon, Dad – let's get that crap cleared outta th' site."

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Nabiki stayed in her room all morning; the Saotomes and Ryoga proceeded to run a whirlwind clean-up in the empty lot, stacking all the junk and the two abandoned cars at one end and thus demonstrating that Ranma had not been exaggerating when he claimed to be capable of picking up a car.

As for Akane and Xian Pu, Akane was bored out of her skull at first, but then noticed Xian Pu unpacking certain stuff. The Amazon had a line of three guitar cases open in the room she shared with the Saotomes; one of the guitar cases held her battered old electric guitar, but the other two did not.

"Kalashnikov, right?" Akane said, not recognising the specific model of the assault rifle Xian Pu was cleaning.

Xian Pu shook her head. "Is Zastava M80A. Bit like AK47, but made Yugoslavia, use different bullets. Dad sell whole lot M80 to Amazon Village, is like Amazon gun now. Amazon engineers make secret factory, able make bullets, able make guns. No many guns. Many many things need buy into village. Is difficult." She slid the bolt back into its carrier, and checked the tensioning. "All good." She sighted out the window; there was a click as the rifle's hammer dropped, and Xian Pu nodded and put it back into the left-hand guitar case. She then picked up the other weapon; this was a short chemically-blacked sword about the size and shape of a wakizashi, but as straight as an arrow; she slipped it out of it's saya and began meticulously polishing it.

"Nice sword." Akane said.

Xian Pu looked slightly smug.

"Xian Pu make." She said.

"Wow."

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Nabiki looked up from her computer as the phone rang; she grabbed the handset.

"Nabiki here. Make with the talking." She snapped.

"It's me." Jitsuyama replied.

"This about Kobayashi?" Nabiki checked.

"Yes. Did you contact him?"

"Yes, I did." Nabiki said.

"Shit. We need to meet up again ASAP; I don't trust phone lines with this. In half an hour work for you?"

"Yes. The usual place?" Nabiki asked.

"No. Come down to the normal place, I'll pick you up and we'll go for a bit of a drive. We need to be careful, Nabiki. There's already been one guy blown in half over this." Jitsuyama said.

Nabiki sighed. "Right. I'll see you there and then. I'll bring copies of what I've got; in return I'd like everything you've got on the hit."

"That works for me. See you tomorrow." Jitsuyama put the phone down.

Nabiki glared at the handset.

"Shit."

The Saotomes had just finished up and were trooping back into the house arguing over who got first bath when a distinctly worried-looking Nabiki came trooping downstairs.

"Are you okay, Nabiki?" Kasumi asked.

Nabiki grimaced.

"I'll be fine." She said. "I'm just having some problems getting some information straight."

Akane gave her a worried look; Nabiki grimaced again and made a flicking motion with her fingers.

"Well, we might as well get cleaned up and have lunch." Micheru said.

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"That's better." Ranma remarked, sitting back. "How soon's that digger due?"

Soun glanced at the clock. "In about ten minutes. I've got to go make some phone calls." He headed through to the back room, ignoring the worried look Genma directed at his back.

"I want to get a cat." Kasumi suddenly said, completely distracting everyone from Soun as she got up and headed for the door.

She stopped on the threshold and looked back.

"I'm going to drive down to the cat rescue place and get a cat." She said, then very firmly put action to words.

"Good thing none of us are allergic to cats." Micheru remarked.

"Even better thing Dad didn't use that old trainin' manual." Ranma remarked.

"Heh, yeah."

"You what?" Akane asked.

Genma winced.

"Bout ten years back I found this old trainin' manual, right?" he said. "Described this technique callin' itself th' cat-fist. Went inta great detail, right? Supposedly unbeatable. Well, I'm thinkin', there's gotta be a catch. There's always a catch in anythin' that looks too good ta be true. Ohboy, is there a catch or what? Makes th' student – or mebbe that'd better be victim – insane an' scared shitless a' cats. I burned the bloody thing."

Nabiki sighed and stood up.

"I've got to go down the town for some business." She said. "I'll see you lot later, OK?" With that she headed out the house, ignoring the concerned look Akane was directing at her back.

"What's up wiv Nabiki?" Ranma asked. "She seems a bit edgy."

Akane slowly shook her head.

"I've got absolutely no idea." She said. "Well, apart from I think she knew that guy who got murdered. But she's even more stressed out than normal."

Ranma nodded. "Ain't easy, losin' someone." He said. "Let's go see if there's any last bits a' clearin' up we can do on th' site before yer dad's pal gets here."

The remaining members of the crew (minus Ryoga, who had disappeared along with all his stuff when they headed inside to get lunch) trooped out to the empty lot, via a newly-installed gate in the back wall of the Tendo compound. The lot was looking a whole lot less empty than last time Akane had seen it. Last time she'd seen it, it had sported two abandoned cars, the remnants of a building's skeleton, several decaying fridges and a stack of fire-damaged corrugated iron and machine parts. It has also been completely swathed in thick tangled undergrowth.

The undergrowth had been hacked down. The old cars were stacked in a corner, and to her sincere shock there was a third that had apparently been concealed by the tangle of bushes. The corrugated iron, old fridges and assorted junk was in a heap beside the old cars, and last but not least the bits of building frame had been torn down, leaving the ruined footings exposed.

"Wow." She said. "Pretty impressive, you guys."

Ranma chuckled, but said nothing, and they began scanning for remaining portions of junk.

"Dad's going to get a skip in so we can get rid of the junk." Micheru said. "I don't know about the old cars though. I'm amazed such a mess build up in a nice district like Nerima."

"Two of the cars were ours." Akane said. "Same goes for that chest freezer and the old TV over there, but I don't know about the rest of the stuff and I've got no idea where the third car came from."

"It wuz sat in th' corner there under a whole loada scrub." Ranma said.

"It used to belong to Ryoga's mother." Genma said, sounding distinctly gloomy.

"Oh." Akane said, unsure about the subtext but definitely not liking it.

"Yeah. Oh." Ranma said with a grimace. "No wonder it were just sat there."

At that moment, a flatbed lorry with a large tarp-covered shape on the back appeared from the junction four blocks north, and headed towards the site; it pulled up on the edge, and a guy in a boiler suit climbed down.

Akane recognised him; he was one of her father's drinking buddies.

"Morning." He said, ambling over. "You Genma Saotome?"

"That's me." Genma confirmed.

"Osama Itoh." The man said, and the two shook hands. "Wow, you really got this place cleaned up, huh? It was a real mess last time I seen it."

He and Genma then started going over plans and marking things out with stakes.

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Nabiki hurriedly drained her coffee when she saw the silver car pull up outside; it was Jitsuyama's Toyota Corolla. She'd expected him to be using a vehicle from the TMPD motor pool, but no, he was using his personal car.

She hurriedly paid for her coffee, went outside and was let into the car by the worried-looking police detective.

"Morning." She said.

"Morning." Jitsuyama replied. Nabiki fastened her seatbelt as he pulled away from the kerb.

"So did you get your information?" Jitsuyama asked.

Nabiki nodded. "Kobayashi gave me a list of five names." She said.

"Right… I could do with a look at that list. I thought Kobayashi was just a small-time information broker with some interesting contacts, but from the look of things he was anything but."

"How's that?" Nabiki asked.

"Well, Matsubara in robbery-homicide was called to the scene right after the shooting." Jitsuyama said. "When he ID'd the victim as one of my stoolies, he called me up. We had a good go over the crime scene, got some slugs and a few cases. I figure the cases flew out the car when they gunned poor bloody Kobayashi down; the guy was a piece of shit, but he didn't deserve that kind of a death. They damn nearly cut him in half with bullets. They were using .45 auto hollowpoints, Okuno says the rifling and extractor marks are classic Thompson sub-machine marks from two different guns with pretty heavily-worn barrels. So anyway, we'd had a preliminary look-over and got us a dozen slugs and a few cases, photographed the body, just the standard drill, and then nine this morning, boom, we're off the case. It's been bumped up to the Advanced Police."

"The labor cops?" Nabiki asked, startled.

Jitsuyama shook his head. "Nah, not the SVD's, though there's a couple of Division Three's Napoleon riot tanks parked up there. TAPD's got several sub-departments; labor crimes, the Special Rescue Team, riot control, the Special Crimes Task Force and Extra Special Weapons And Tactics."

"So what do those last two do?" Nabiki asked.

"Well, SCTF normally deals with organised crime, cults, serial killers – that kind of thing. ESWAT are the government's terrorist hunters." Jitsuyama told her. "Right now SCTF and ESWAT are crawling all over the street corner where Kobayashi got the crap blown out of him. One of my pals down at the SVD headquarters told me they loaded high explosive ammunition into the riot tanks. There's something seriously fucking weird going on here." He sighed. "Damnit, if only we knew how your search comes into it. The timing's too neat for it to be anything else, unless it's a Hell of a coincidence – and I don't believe in coincidences on this scale. This has got to be to do with the Clans… what the hell is their game?"

"Good question, and the sooner it's answered the sooner I'll be able to halfway relax again." Nabiki said.

Jitsuyama's phone went. He swore, tugged it out of his pocket, and flipped it open.

"Jitsuyama here… Okuno, what've you got for me?... You what?... Okay, that's weird… Yeah, just file it, I'll see what I can find out… OK, thanks… thanks… yeah, catch you later."

Jitsuyama put the phone down.

"Very, very, weird." He said.

"What now?" Nabiki asked.

"That was Okuno in the ballistic lab. He says they've identified the anomalous organic material that was all over the bullets. Sap from the aconite plant, sealed into the hollow points of the slugs with beeswax."

"Aconite?" Nabiki said, frowning. "It's got to be significant."

"Yeah, but to what? Gods, I'm starting to think we're dealing with a cult… It might be worth asking your sister about the ballistics report once we get it."

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The rumble of a diesel engine alerted the teenagers to the fact something was actually happening aside from Genma talking to Itoh, so they trooped round the back of the house and through to the Saotome compound.

Xian Pu couldn't help but gawp when she saw what was lifting itself off the truck's loadbed. The clatter of the engine, the girders-and-exposed-hydraulics design and the bright yellow paint with black hazard stripes unmistakably said 'construction machinery'.

The fact it was a large humanoid robot, on the other hand…

One of it's thick arms ended in a three-fingered mechanical hand; the other was far too long by proportion and ended in a bucket like you'd find on the back of a backhoe loader. Its feet were large slabs of creased and jointed metal much like sets of caterpillar tracks, and in fact on looking closer Xian Pu realised they really were caterpillar tracks. Its torso was far too large and broad by proportion, had an open cockpit a bit like a cross between a tractor's cab and a large rollcage set into the front, and it had flashing orange hazard beacons on the shoulders; a large rusty exhaust pipe extended from the half-exposed engine in it's back.

"What's up?" Akane asked. "Haven't you ever seen a labor before?"

Xian Pu silently shook her head.

"When Akane dad say 'Digger', Xian Pu think mean back-hoe." She admitted. "Xian Pu see pictures, but no see labor for real before."

"Well, they are a pretty new technology, and typically Japanese." Micheru remarked.

"Nah, not so, they've been spreadin' all over Europe an' North America since Shinohara demolition labors went on sale over there back in '95." Ranma remarked.

"Trust a guy to know that." Akane muttered.

"Xian Pu be in China since 1995."

"Hey, is Daisuke part of _that_ Shinohara family?" Micheru asked.

Akane nodded. "Yeah, his grandfather's one of the guys who founded Shinohara Heavy Industries back during the occupation." She said.

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The labor was still working away when Kasumi got back twenty minutes later, but by that time the teenagers had got bored and gone back to the house to doss around and listen to music.

Everyone immediately noticed Kasumi's cargo; a cat.

The cat that was sitting in Kasumi's arms was built like a brick shithouse. It was substantially larger than your average housecat, and composed of 100 percent pure unadulterated muscle, so powerful it looked more like a hyena, with a heavy jaw, lower canines that poked up like the tusks of a stereotypical Orc, and the evilest-looking eyes anyone would ever see on any feline anywhere; one was milky white, the other was yellow and held a look of deranged half-psychotic contempt. His fur (off-white with black patches) was scored with multitudes of scars and his ears were ragged along their edges. He looked like he'd just won both World Wars in one sitting, and his bearing had a definite 'You should see the other guy' demeanour about it.

"You could have picked a less ugly cat." Akane said.

Ranma snorted. "I think he's cool. Battle-scarred old warrior, huh?"

"I picked him because he came over and let me stroke him and purred. A lot of the cats in the cat rescue place are kinda crazy." Kasumi explained, setting the cat down on the table, where he started sauntering around and critically examining each of his audience.

"I think I'll call him Horse." Kasumi said.

"Why?" Akane asked, somewhat bemused.

"Well, he's as big as one."

Horse coolly contemplated his surroundings, yawned, turned round a couple of times, and sat down.

---End Chapter---

Next – Nabiki looks into Kobayashi's death, and the Saotomes continue settling in to Nerima.

Slight revision 18/May/07. added the date Xian Pu said she'd been in China since, changed typo 'wakasashi' to 'wakizashi', my spellchecker does not know Japanese weapon names, and replaced a percent mark with the word 'percent', I'll know not to use that one in future…

**Author's Notes:**

Top Dog and Biker ½ are looking for a more permanent home. This home needs to enable me to;

- attach graphics to each chapter, probably up to about 500k per image, primarily as chapter header images but possibly more than that; I want to be able to have graphics appropriate to that chapter rather than fucking Zwinkys or noisy smileys.

- post other artwork.

- insert song lyrics into the flow of the story, the exclusion of this being my main problem with this site if you ask me, a fanfiction website that would ban Symphony of the Sword and Drunkard's Walk has something _seriously_ wrong with its priorities.

- maintain tight control of formatting, especially the spacing of line returns. Careful use of line returns can make a big improvement to the way a story flows, and scene breaks can become much more fluid.

- insert HTML links into the text of the story, primarily so I can post links to reference images in the author's notes.

- arrange story listings in an in-story chronological order on the website. To see what I mean, check out the Undocumented Features chronological listings on the EPU website. If you don't know where to look, run a Google search on 'Undocumented Features', they're like number 2 on the results list. Yeah, Gryphon is pretty much my role-model as a fanfic author.

- connect to a forum. Definitely a necessity. And preferably have a comment thread / guestbook system enabling readers to comment without signing up to a forum, much like here.

My intent is to make Top Dog and Biker ½ a much more 'multimedia' experience, primarily using the stock of character art I'm building up. I don't plan on entirely ditching but I want to be able to control what the reader sees on clicking through to a chapter instead of getting saddled with random adverts.

If anyone's got any suggestions, drop me a line either via PM or in the comment thread for whichever fic you're reading this in. I'm aware I may have to construct a website myself, but I'm hoping to avoid that as my HTML skills are non-existent.

Moving on, there's another post to the answers thread; Kuro Neko, BlazeStryker, konton, there's stuff there for you guys.

(EDIT: And this time I really have posted it…)

To get an idea of what techno-industrial is, go to www dot teamuvr dot com (replacing 'dot' with dots, you know the drill) download 'Die Alone Screaming' and stand by for the musical equivalent of a kick in the head.

Re the planning permission; some US readers may be wondering about zoning. I don't know how it works in Japan so I've modelled it loosely on how it works here in the UK; there is no such thing as zoning over here. Basically, you send a design and site survey to the local council planning department, and assuming it conforms to the building regulations and nobody complains, you're good to go. Genma's planning application was handled insanely fast; you're usually looking at a couple of months wait before the building permit comes through. If nobody complains, you're pretty much free to do what you like on your land; there are building safety regulations, of course, and enough complaints can halt a build before it gets off the ground or force a business to move premises, and then there's the heritage stuff (conservation zones or listed buildings) which make things more difficult, but that's about as far as it goes. A build to replace a fire-destroyed building like Genma's is pretty much run-of-the-mill, although it's admittedly unusual to have a small business in a mainly residential area like I'm portraying that part of Nerima.

As for the reference I'm making with the cat, if anyone gets it I'll be delighted and suspect them of being from New Zealand.

Thanks for the comments, everyone.

Doghead Out.


	10. Chapter 8

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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The Lucky Dragon bar and restaurant at the corner of 5th and 12th in central Shinjuku was a bit of an oddity.

It was one of the oldest buildings in the district, jammed between two high-rise towerblocks; a traditional Korean restaurant originally constructed in the years following the Second World War. On that particular Monday afternoon, it was fairly busy. There were in fact thirty-seven people in the building; six staff and thirty-one customers, one of whom was an undercover cop. The Lucky Dragon was suspected of being a front, either for the Tongs or the Yakuza, nobody was really sure who, but there were definitely suspicious goings-ons at the place.

Nobody in the building had any idea of how abrupt an end said goings-ons were about to come to as a silver Isuzu Trooper with tinted windows turned onto 5th Street; the 4x4 pulled to a halt opposite the restaurant and its windows rolled down, revealing that it had four occupants, all of whom were wearing ski masks.

At some unseen signal, the guy in the front passenger seat leant out the window with a Fabique Nationale FAL battle rifle fitted with an underslung grenade launcher; he shouldered the rifle and fired the launcher. The grenade smashed through the window of the Lucky Dragon into the lounge, and landed in the lap of a customer at table 7, where it detonated, showering white phosphorous around the room; the man whose lap it landed in very literally never knew what hit him. Six others were set on fire by the grenade burst, and the remaining thirty became quite keen on exiting the now burning building.

As they fought to be first out the door, another problem presented itself; the gunman opened fire with the rifle, cutting the first three people out the door down in a hail of 5.56, and the two in the back of the Isuzu popped out their windows, joining in with the sub-machine guns they were holding –Heckler and Koch MP5's fitted with massive drum magazines. All but one of the occupants of the restaurant, given the choice between fire and lead, chose to try their chances with the hail of bullets; the gunmen mowed them down in their tracks. By this time, everyone on the streets within several blocks was running like their lives depended on it – there was a good chance they did.

The last surviving occupant of the Lucky Dragon, a rail-thin blonde girl with a boyish frame, ran like hell for the toilets, flung the window open, wormed through, landed in the alley behind the burning restaurant, and concentrated on putting as much distance as possible between herself and the Lucky Dragon, swearing all the way.

The Isuzu's crew waited for a few moments, then rolled their windows up and roared off.

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Koji Jitsuyama had joined the police as soon as he hit eighteen. He'd worked up from a beat cop to the hallowed ranks of TMPD's detectives, and over the years he'd seen a lot of nasty scenes – traffic accidents, Yakuza gang wars, roadkill week, murder, mayhem, and general street violence.

However, the scene that met his eye as he surveyed what had been a pleasant Korean restaurant in a nice district took the cake. A quick count showed twenty-eight bodies on the steps, all of them in extremely bad condition, and from the stink of burnt meat there were more inside the charred building. It looked like a tiny extract from Armageddon, bundled up and dumped in the middle of inner-city Tokyo.

"Oh holy _shit_." Jitsuyama said. He hadn't seen that much blood and entrails liberally spread around in one place since the slaughterhouse bombing back when he was a rookie.

One of the other cops – a beat officer he didn't know – nodded.

"I won't be able to face the thought of noodles for months."

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**Disclaimer: It's disclaimed. You know the drill.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 8: Only Half Alive**

**(In which we meet a tragic little rich girl and a trebuchet)**

Twenty minutes later, Jitsuyama was picking through the interior of the burned-out building along with robbery-homicide detective Matsubara. They'd found eight more stiffs inside the ruin, all badly burned, one so badly they'd have to go for dental records to identify him. Three of the victims had been packing heat –a snub-nosed Nambu .32 police-issue automatic on one of the burned stiffs, and two of the ones who'd been gunned down on the steps were packing Czech-made Skorpion sub-machine guns, though only one of them had got his out. The Nambu was damaged enough to make identification difficult; it's ammunition had cooked off in the fire. All three guns were in evidence bags on their way to Okuno's lab and identification.

The restaurant's walk-in meat freezer drew a wan grin from the pair of cops. It had survived the inferno pretty much intact; the shell was discoloured, but it was still in shape.

Matsubara tested the handle for residual heat and, finding it cool to the touch, hauled the freezer open.

The two men froze, rooted to the spot, staring at the contents of the meat freezer.

"Add at least another ten homicides to the list." Matsubara said.

The Lucky Dragon's meat freezer was loaded with human bodies, bereft of their heads, hands, and feet, and hung up by the ankles on meat hooks. They'd been defrosted by the heat of the fire.

Jitsuyama turned away; Matsubara slammed the freezer, and the two men continued silently checking the debris.

The next thing that drew their attention was the basement. The stairs down were of course in bad condition, but the door at the bottom was unscathed; it was a metal, naval-looking door, complete with a turn-handle at the centre.

Having picked his way down, Jitsuyama gave the handle a spin.

The door swung easily open, and Jitsuyama shone his torch into a gun maniac's heaven.

The freezer was a charnel-house; the basement was an armoury, mostly stuffed full of sub-machine guns, but with a few automatic rifles and, to Jitsuyama's considerable shock, a pair of shoulder-launched single-shot-and-dispose anti-tank missile launchers and a man-portable mortar.

"Holy shit." He said. "You could start another world war with this lot!"

"Let's get them the Hell up the station." Matsubara said.

And so they did. They roped four of the uniformed cops into the job, hand-balled all the guns and ammo into one of the vans, counting the weapons in the process, and took off with great haste towards HQ with six hundred and fifty-eight assorted firearms in the back.

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When Akane came through from the phone, Horse the cat was critically observing the scene from the middle of the dining table while Xian Pu noodled with her guitar on the sofa and Rei sat, completely unaware of her surroundings, in the chair that had by now been deemed to be Rei's chair; there was no sign of Micheru. As for Ranma, she was in female form, dressed in raggy muscle T and leather trousers, and she was cleaning her bike using the Tendo's garden hose; the hose sort of told Akane what Ranma was doing in curse form.

The thick layer of dirt was gone from the Suzuki, revealing that rather than the matte black Akane had thought, the bike was painted in a high gloss finish; only the forks, lamp lenses, mirrors and exhausts were a different colour – the fork sliders were bright metal and the exhausts were now unmistakably segments of scaffolding tube bent into shape and coated with matte black heat-proof paint. Now that it wasn't absolutely covered in filth, a couple of details were actually visible, like the bright red valve tap on the nitrous oxide cylinder, the mural of an angel on the top of the fuel tank, and the way the wiring and control cables were tucked mostly out of sight.

"Hey, Ranma." Akane said.

"Sup?" Ranma grunted.

"We're going over the park and meeting up with my mates. Wanna come?"

"Yeah sure." Ranma said, standing up. Horse leapt down from the table, sauntered over to the chair upon which Rei was seated, and climbed up onto her lap; she didn't bat an eyelid as the hulking cat settled himself.

"That cat definitely swaggers." Akane said. "I think he's a macho asshole."

"There's more'n one macho asshole in this room." Ranma remarked, jerking a thumb at herself, which seemed rather strange coming from a busty pint-sized redhead in a barely decent due to wear and tear tank-top.

"That no work, Airen no asshole." Xian Pu told her.

Ranma chuckled and mooched through to the kitchen in search of hot water.

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Two minutes later, Ranma came mooching back out the kitchen, back in the body he'd been born with and smoking a rollie as he hauled his leather jacket on; Akane found the different effect on his muscle-T a bit disappointing.

"So what's th' plan?" he asked.

"Daisuke's going to give me a lift." Akane said. "He'll be round any minute now. You wanna ride along, or are you bringing your bikes?"

Ranma frowned slightly, contemplating the beer Akane's arms were loaded with, then glanced at Xian Pu.

"There room in yer mate's car fer Miss Lightweight?" he asked. Xian Pu stuck her tongue out at him; he ignored it.

"Sure." Akane said.

Ranma nodded. "Think I'll take me bike. She'd better not if we're gonna be drinkin'."

Akane grinned, remembering Drunk-Immobile-Xian-Pu from the nightclub.

"Too true." She said. Xian Pu stuck her tongue out at Akane for good measures while Ranma casually got his leathers sorted out.

A rumble of Subaru announced Daisuke arriving; Ranma swung aboard his bike and asked, "Where exactly are we headin'?"

"The park just opposite the school." Akane said. "It's near the school so most of the dickheads won't go there unless it's during the school year at lunch break."

"Uh, I dunno howta get there." Ranma admitted.

"Well, why don't you just follow us?" Akane asked.

Ranma grimaced and grumbled about crappy slowpoke sports cars as Akane and Xian Pu climbed into the Subaru, then followed the car off into the maze of streets known as Nerima.

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Ten minutes later, they drew up opposite Furinkan High. Right enough, there was a moderate-sized municipal park, and a compact carpark; Ranma parked his bike beside Daisuke's Impreza, and glanced around as the others got out the car. A group consisting of Yuka, Sayuri, Gos and Kaori was lounging around in the park at the benches that overlooked the pond; his attention rapidly got diverted when he saw what was stationed in the schoolyard the other side of the road.

"You know when we say about the Trebuchet Incident?" Akane said. "There's the trebuchet."

There were three medieval siege engines scattered around the schoolyard; a smashed-up ballista, some form of catapult, and a truly enormous trebuchet.

The trebuchet seemed to have been made from a mix of telegraph poles and old railway sleepers; it was massive, solidly constructed, and looked fully operable.

"It's there as a reminder." Akane said. "Every time someone sees it, it tells them 'This is what happens if you screw with Akane Tendo'. See the lighter patch in the top floor? That's where the principle's Land Cruiser hit the wall."

"Let me get this straight. Ya loaded a four wheel drive inta it, an' flung it at th' buildin', right?"

"Right." Akane confirmed. "Well, actually, we kinda assembled the trebuchet around the truck. What's left of the Toyota is still in room C2. There was a lot of other stuff happened that day, but yeah. That's the trebuchet."

Ranma went over and examined it.

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A trebuchet basically consists of three poles; two uprights and an arm.

The arm is pivoted between the tips of the uprights, which are attached to some form of assembly to keep the whole shebang upright.

A very heavy weight is attached to one end of the arm, and a sling to the other. The arm is winched down (raising the weight) and the projectile is loaded into the sling, then the winch is simply released.

The weight descends, causing the sling (and projectile) to ascend; when the weight gets right down the projectile proceeds onwards in a high arcing parabola.

The trebuchet is one of the most efficient throwing devices ever designed; what it lacks in accuracy it more than makes up for in simplicity and effectiveness. It is able to hurl a lot of weight a long way.

In the United States, a group of modern-day trebuchet enthusiasts have stated the intent to throw a Cadillac the length of a football field; that is not an unrealistic goal, and the pun was entirely intentional.

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Looking up at the huge trebuchet Akane had apparently constructed, Ranma found himself wondering exactly why this mighty machine had ended up being used to fling lemon meringue.

After a few moments, he decided he didn't want to know.

"This thing in workin' order?" he asked.

"Of course; I keep it fully maintained in case we ever need it again." Akane told him; she'd wandered over to the trebuchet with him. "You never know what the education authorities will try to use to enforce their petty rules."

"What a fuckin' beauty." Ranma muttered, evil schemes dancing through his mind, such as loading Kuno into the trebuchet and testing his aerodynamics. If that thing had flung a four wheel drive a couple hundred feet, it should be able to throw an arsehole halfway to Tokyo Bay.

"Glad you like it." Akane said, smirking to herself.

Ranma gave her a funny look and went to join the rest of Akane's crew.

They settled themselves, passed beers round, Gos stuck some Front 242 on, and then they got an unexpected interruption.

"Hey, who's that?" Sayuri asked, jerking her head in the general direction of where the bikes and car were parked.

"Dunno, but she's hot." Akane said, peering in the direction Sayuri had indicated.

"I know her, vaguely." Satoshi said. "Her name's… Cod something? Shit, can't remember. She went to the same grade school as me."

"That one in her leg musta hurt like a right bastard when she got it." Kaori remarked. "And ouch, that arm doesn't look comfortable."

"Definitely broken." Ranma agreed.

"I seem to remember something about her getting hit by a car." Satoshi said.

The tall girl stopped beside Ranma's bike, and thoughtfully examined it. Ranma heaved himself to his feet and ambled over, followed by Xian Pu and several of the goths.

"Quite a beast, ain't she?" he said.

"This is your motorcycle, correct?" the girl asked.

Ranma nodded enthusiastically.

"Yup." He said. "Suzuki GSXR1100R, bored out ta 1300cc. Been buildin' her up since I wuz nine; I keep choppin' an' changin' her engine, she's puttin' out somethin' like three hundred an' sixty brake horse at th' back wheel, so that's closer ta five hundred at th' crank – I hadta use a clutch offa a racin' car, only part that'd take th' strain. She's a fuckin' _animal_. Problem is, she's really scrapin' th' top a' what th' materials can handle – she's always blowin' parts. I just got done rebuildin' her gearbox, she'd smashed second ta fragments. Hey, we ain't been introduced. I'm Ranma Jaku Saotome, pleased ta meet ya."

"My name," the girl said, "Is Kodachi Kuno."

The goths gave her highly doubtful looks; Satoshi snapped his fingers and slapped himself across the forehead.

"That was it." he said.

"Any relation to Tatewaki Kuno?" Akane checked.

"Indeed; he is my elder brother." Kodachi said. "You'd be the Akane Tendo girl about whom he obsesses, correct?"

"Yeah." Akane said, slowly nodding.

"And that would be why your face is familiar." Kodachi said. "Unlucky you."

"How would you know my face?" Akane doubtfully asked.

"It seems that, until some kind of upset involving a siege engine that Father and Tatewaki refuse to elaborate upon, you were a favourite target for the Furinkan Photography Club." Kodachi said, shrugging lopsidedly.

"Typical." Akane muttered. "That arsehole and his fixations – it doesn't make any sense why he latched onto me like that."

"It makes perfect sense." Kodachi snapped. "Tatewaki's self-image revolves around his sex appeal, and when you spurned him I believe he simply lashed out at this perceived assault against his masculinity. I do not believe it helped that I chose the same day to inform Tatewaki and Father of my bisexuality."

"Figures." Akane groused. "The thing I want to know is how to get his attention off me and someplace else."

"A .357 Magnum?" Kaori suggested.

"Shut up, Kaori." Satoshi growled. "That's seriously unfunny."

Kodachi suddenly cast an aggravated look around the group.

"You may as well ask about it." she said. "Everyone does."

"About what?" Akane blankly asked.

"My arm!" Kodachi snapped.

"What about it?" Ranma asked. "Sure, it ain't hangin' right, figured ya bust it recently or somethin', 'specially wiv yer limp. So what? Shit happens."

"Recently?" Kodachi blankly asked. "Ranma, I broke my arm _eight years ago_. I also broke both my legs, one of which still doesn't work quite right, my other arm, my collar bone, my skull and very nearly my neck. I was hospitalised for two and a half years, and I was in a wheelchair for another two years. When I die, I shall accurately be able to claim to have died three times; I was resuscitated once at the scene of the attack, and once again in the hospital."

"Holy _shit_, what happened?" Akane asked.

"My father was a detective in the Advanced Police's Special Crimes Task Force; they said he was one of the finest police officers in the world." Kodachi said, a hint of pride in her voice. She sighed. "I remember little of those days, but I do remember that during an exceptionally important investigation Father was sent a photograph of me, Mother, and my brother, making our way home from school; Mother was a teacher at the grade school Tatewaki and I attended. Written on the reverse of the photograph was, 'We know where your children go to school. Mind your own business if you want them to stay healthy'. Father did not pay the warning any heed. He continued his investigation; it led to the arrest and conviction of several prominent yakuza, one of them the oyabun of a major family. Two days after the trial began a car ran me down while we walked home; it's occupants used a sub-machine gun on Mother. I… I remember hearing an engine close by, then waking up in hospital six weeks later. It seems I was struck by the car's fender and thrown a hundred and ninety feet; I hold the Tokyo record for the distance thrown from the scene of a collision. Tatewaki never recovered from the shock; he escaped without injury to his body, but they tell me he held Mother in his arms as she died. He was nine. Father left the police the next day; he was given a cushy job administering a quiet high school in the area, but within the year he had gone quite insane; the school went insane along with him, I believe the siege engines were merely a symptom of something far deeper. And me? They tell me I shall never walk properly nor use my left hand as long as I live, and I will definitely never be able to run again."

"Shit." Ranma muttered.

"Told you it was unfunny." Satoshi hissed to Kaori.

Ranma considered Kodachi's arm for a long moment, then shrugged.

"Well, could be worse." He said. "Yer still breathin' so it ain't got ya yet."

"Indeed." Kodachi said. "I have to go."

"Seeya around." Ranma said with a nod.

Kodachi inclined her head. "Count on it, Saotome-san." She said, and departed.

"Intriguing girl." Satoshi remarked, having waited until she was out of earshot.

"Especially considerin' she's got three ninjas followin' her." Ranma said with a casual nod. "Two guys anna girl. Whoever they are, they're _good_, but they're maskin' their ki an' they ain't maskin' th' blank gap, an' th' guys got some sorta, I dunno, _thingy_ in their auras what's givin' me th' heebie-jeebies."

"_Very_ intriguing girl." Satoshi said with a nod. "I have a suggestion, O fearless leader."

"What?" Akane asked. She was staring blankly in the direction Kodachi had gone.

"Invite Kodachi to join our merry band." Satoshi said with an evil grin. "Let's see her numbnutted brother and his drooling goons have a go at us when we've got his tragic baby sister with us."

"You are _evil_, man." Kaori said, sounding impressed. "_Pure __**evil**_."

"I have another suggestion." Sayuri said. "Well, actually it's more a way to piss Kuno off, but…"

"Go on." Akane said.

"Hit on Kodachi. What? Hey, she said she was bisexual."

"That," Akane said, "Is an _excellent_ idea… I should have thought of that." A little image ran through her mind of a public make-out session between her and Kodachi causing Kuno's head to explode, complete with a miniature mushroom cloud.

"I think someone's been feeding Sayuri my evil pills." Satoshi remarked. Sayuri stuck her tongue out at him; he tried to grab the tip, and failed.

"Stop molesting Sayuri." Akane said. "That's my job."

"Make Sayuri stop sticking her tongue out." Satoshi told her. "It tempts me."

Hiroshi and Daisuke shared a doubtful look while Yuka and Sayuri broke down in a giggle fit.

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"What a fascinating group of people." Kodachi murmured. There was something that intrigued her about the group of goths, and especially the tower of muscle and leather and hair that was Ranma Saotome; she couldn't get him out of her head. There was something exciting and exotic and dangerous about the massive young man; something quite unlike the sedentary life Kodachi knew. Even his name – the presence of that middle name – had something alien that made Kodachi's pulse quicken; he was the absolute antithesis of the lot of a crippled girl in Tokyo, and Kodachi found herself wanting to know everything about him.

As she walked back towards her ancestral home, she made a mental promise to herself that she'd speak to the chief of her family's retainers at once – Master Sasuke. The ancient ninjitsu master had served five generations of Kunos, and in that time he had made an incredible network of contacts and information sources throughout Japan and the wider world.

Surely he would be able to tell her what she wanted to know.

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Half an hour later, the crew got back to the dojo; Xian Pu had avoided getting drunk by the simple expedient of turning down the offer of a beer, and she proceeded upstairs to unpack for display the remainder of her weapons – a pair of rifles, a sub-machine gun, three handguns, and two swords.

Nabiki wandered past just as the half-Chinese girl was finishing setting her miniature arsenal up; the middle Tendo's attention was instantly attracted to the rack of swords.

Or rather, one sword in particular.

It looked much like a katana, but a touch on the short side and with a blade as straight as an arrow, finished a gleaming jet black, and with an oddly European-looking crossguard.

Nabiki reached for the sword, paused with her hands a few inches away from it as she suddenly remembered how manners are quite important around people with guns and sharp things, and asked, "Can I?"

"Yes, but don't unsheathe him more than half an inch. It's unlucky to draw a blade without letting him taste blood." Xian Pu said, switching to English since Nabiki spoke said language.

Nabiki blinked, momentarily taken aback, then remembered this stocky purple-haired BDU-clad girl was a barbarian warrior. Having weird traditions and superstitions is one of those things that barbarian warriors do.

She carefully examined the sword; it was beautiful. The hilt was inlaid with silver Chinese dragons interlinked in a manner reminiscent of Celtic knotwork, their heads forming the pommel; the guard was a knotwork circle. The blade (what little of it she drew) was inlaid with hundreds, thousands, of tiny runes, each a millimetre at most across. The sheath was made of the same black wood as the hilt, once again inlaid with a continuation of the interlinked dragon motif.

"It's beautiful." Nabiki said, gingerly placing the sword back on the rack. "It's got to be at least five, six hundred years old… I guess it was the prize for that tournament, or is it a family heirloom?"

"Wrong, wrong and wrong." Xian Pu told her. "This sword is my masterpiece. I finished him six months ago."

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"Sasuke? Where are you, Sasuke?" Kodachi asked, peering cautiously into the servant's quarters. As she'd expected, there was no sign of any of the staff, not even any sign they'd ever been there. Aside from Sasuke, Kodachi had only ever heard the voice of one of the servants – a young man with a cold voice, and Kodachi had no idea what said young man was called or actually looked like; she'd overheard him arguing with Sasuke once some years before. She'd seen several of them around, but she only knew bits of the appearance of two of them; Master Sasuke was of course familiar, and she'd once come face-to-face with a girl on the second floor; the girl had very promptly vanished, seemingly into thin air. All the other times Kodachi had seen members of the Kuno staff, they'd been clad in nightsuits that completely concealed their identities, thanks in part to the addition of mirrorshades.

Having a ninja clan as your family servants can be an unnerving experience.

"You called?" Sasuke said, stepping out of nowhere, or at least that's what it looked like.

Having got her pulse rate back under control, Kodachi nodded.

"Indeed." She said. "Earlier today, I chanced to encounter a most fascinating individual, and-"

"Ah, yes; Ranma Jaku Saotome, correct?" Sasuke checked.

"How did you know that?" Kodachi asked.

Sasuke smiled enigmatically.

"Your guardians told me you had encountered him, and seemed quite taken with the young wild man." Sasuke said, with a very Gallic shrug. "I have been awaiting your query for two hours now. You desire to see what I know of the Saotome family, correct?"

Kodachi nodded. "And what do you mean, guardians?"

Sasuke paused.

"Since your mother's tragic death, no Kuno has ever been alone." He said. "Our honour was stained when those thugs slew her and maimed you, and we shall not permit a repeat of that incident. But enough on that subject; you wish to know all you may of Ranma Jaku Saotome. I have prepared a preliminary dossier on the Saotome family, including the nature of their connection to the Tendo family and the Moroboshi ninja clan. I advise you to endeavour not to infuriate those families, Mistress Kodachi. As yet, a fragile peace exists between their kind and the Kuno line; I would like to see that peace last, as neither the Kuno line nor my clan would survive the breaking of that peace."

"I would like to meet my guardians some day." Kodachi said, accepting the slim folder Sasuke handed to her.

"Some day, perhaps you shall." Sasuke said, with his mysterious smile firmly in place. "I shall endeavour to find what may be found about the young man in question and those he calls kin; it will not be an easy task. Out of all the ninjas of Japan, the Moroboshis are unquestionably the most talented; they say that anything a child of Happosai touches turns to shadows for a _reason_."

"Who _is_ this Happosai?" Kodachi asked.

"Master Happosai Moroboshi." Sasuke said. "He is known by many titles; he is the Emperor's spymaster, and the master of the Imperial assassins. He is like an octopus that dwells in the darkness; his power reaches out to touch all, and none are outside his knowledge. It is said that he knows the secrets of life and death, and it is said that sex is secondly only to the Emperor in his mind. His children and grandchildren are the Moroboshi ninja clan, first among equals; they act as the Emperor's private army, his hand in the shadows; known also as the Emperor's Blades, they have served our Emperors since the dawn of Japan's history. All the ninjas of Japan listen when Master Happosai speaks; he is the mightiest of our kind. It is said that Happosai stole the Way of Shadows from the gods, and was cursed to serve the children of Ameterasu for as long as the Crysanthenum Throne stands; Happosai is said to be the creator of almost as many Arts as Son Wukong. I believe there is a kernel of truth within the myths of Happosai. One thing is certain; there has been a Happosai in the direct service of the Emperors since records began. It is possible that the name 'Happosai Moroboshi' is in fact a title given to the serving Master of the Moroboshi clan, a ceremonial name inherited from the first Happosai, the one who either brought ninjitsu to Japan, or created it. But I do not believe so."

"You mean you think this Happosai guy's immortal?" Kodachi asked.

Sasuke bowed his head.

"Mistress Kodachi, I first met Master Happosai when I was a boy of only six years of age. I attended a conclave of sorts, a meeting upon neutral ground of all the ninja clans of Japan, to decide what stance to take on the Meiji Restoration; I was there as the eldest son of my father, who was at the time the master of my clan. Master Happosai told my father that he believed many great things would come of me; a belief I still struggle to fulfil. In 1938 I once again met Master Happosai, and he had changed not one jot. In 1945 I met Master Happosai again; it was like he had not aged a minute. And once more, in 1966, I met Master Happosai, and he looked just the same as always. Then again, two days ago, I met Master Happosai, and he had changed not one jot. I believe he does indeed know the secrets of life and death."

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It was a beautiful morning. It had rained during the night, and the wet grass gave everything that crisp, clean feeling you only get after rain. The rumble of the excavation labor woke Akane up a bit earlier than usual, and ensured she wouldn't get back to sleep, so with a resigned sigh she headed downstairs.

Akane stopped dead in her tracks as she saw what was sat on the patio.

Ranma was in female form, and dressed only in boxer shorts and a battered black T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. She was meditating, seated in a full lotus position.

It was right there and then that Akane came to a conclusion that seriously embarrassed her.

She fancied Ranma's female side.

"Oh holy _shit!_"

Nabiki's yell attracted the attention of everyone in the house, unsurprisingly enough; even Horse had a look-see. Ranma just opened one eye, peered sideways, made a 'not-my-problem' expression, and went back to meditating.

The middle Tendo daughter was standing in the porch, holding the morning newspaper, and staring at the front-page headline:

FIRE-BOMBING IN SHINJUKU!

Soun saw it, looked faintly satisfied for a moment, and then went back to his usual serious expression. Genma and Horse were the only members of the household who caught this momentary change of expression; the cat gave Soun a thoughtful look and swaggered back to Rei's chair, while Genma favoured the Tendo patriarch with a doubtful look, then shrugged in a not-my-problem kind of way.

As for Nabiki, she shakily put the newspaper on the table, had a look through the rest of the mail, made a startled noise, handed most of it to her father (who handed the industrial supplies catalogue to Akane) and opened the large envelope she was still holding.

She then settled herself at the table for a good read while the rest of the household was setting up for breakfast.

After a few moments, she handed Akane a printout.

"What do you think?" she said.

Akane looked at it. It was a ballistic report on a bunch of bullets that had apparently been found at a crime scene. It seemed several of them had gone through someone.

"Ouch." She said, reading over it. "Hey, that's funny. How come the slugs were stuffed full of wolfsbane?"

The reaction wasn't what she expected. Nabiki went as white as a sheet, grabbed the printouts, squeaked "_Wolfsbane_?!?" and ran for her room.

"… that was weird." Akane said.

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Nabiki drummed her fingers as the phone rang through.

"Jitsuyama here, talk to me." Came Jitsuyama's voice.

"Nabiki here." Nabiki said. "I think I've hit on the significance of the aconite."

"Atta girl – what've you got?" Jitsuyama asked.

"Aconite," Nabiki said, "Is also known as wolfsbane."

"Oh holy _shit_."

**---End Chapter---**

My source for random authentic Japanese names is very simple; the credits listings on the backs of my assorted anime videos and DVD's. That said, as soon as a character is named, even if they only turn up for one scene and are then never seen again, they go into my master character list, and become fodder for in-jokes and references.

I am given to believe that telegraph poles are called power poles in the States. Likewise, railway sleeper railroad tie. Both are suitably substantial chunks of wood, like you'd need to construct a trebuchet on the scale I described earlier. Truck-chuckin' time.

I'm aware that a Toyota Land Cruiser would be described as an SUV in the States, I just don't feel it's a term Ranma would use. Remember, he's spent time in Britain as well as all over the Far and Middle East, and much of Europe – he's much more well-travelled than the canon Ranma, partly because they did the voyage of training via motorbike. 'Four-wheel-drive' or 'Four-by-four' (written '4x4') is what we call that sort of vehicle here in the UK; either that or 'Japanese imitation Land Rover'. American SUV's aren't at all usual here in Britain, and I guess they're even more unusual in Japan due to the scale of the place; a Hummer is a big vehicle by American standards, now compare it to a Honda Civic… you get my drift.

Yup, ol' Happy is ninjitsu's own personal Jesus Christ. And yup, he's a dirty old lecher. He may be the Emperor's most loyal servant, but he's still Happosai. Happosai not being a pervert would be a bit like Michael Jackson dancing the Macarena while wearing only a buttplug tail – just plain _wrong_.

Son Wukong is the Monkey King from Chinese myth; he's who Son Goku of Dragonball fame was based upon. And yes, Son Wukong is going to feature in this tale. And no he's not Happosai. Oh, and by the way, 'The Emperor's Blades' is indeed an Elder Scrolls reference.

Moving on, here's some brief notes on my gun selection for this chapter –

I don't have much information on Japanese police firearms. I named the .32 a Nambu as that's the only Japanese pistol manufacturer's name I've been able to find.

The MP5 and the FN FAL were chosen due to the fact they are very professional weapons – they're both kit used by 22 Special Air Service. I don't know the exact capacity of the MP5 drum magazine as I only know it from airsofting. The underslung on the FAL is probably an M203E of the type that mount on a RIS rail, which I once again only know from airsofting. I'm unsure if white phosphorous incendiary grenades are available for the M203E; artistic license? Oh well.

The Skorpion sub-machine gun was made in Czechslovakia and Yugoslavia; at one time it was made for export by Zastava in Yugoslavia, who called it the M84. It's usually seen in 7.65mm Browning (aka .32 Auto) but it's supposedly also been made in .380 Auto and 9mm Parabellum. It is a sub-machine gun about the size of a heavy pistol, and is highly popular with your itinerant terrorist due to it's inherit concealability; that is why I chose it.

The Thompson M1A1's were probably snuck back into the country during the war in the Pacific by returning Japanese soldiers, or left in Japan after the occupation; that's what I'm trying to indicate with the level of wear in their barrels. Tommy guns are highly reliable and built like a tank; it's not at all unlikely for a Tommy gun made and used during the war to still work perfectly happily in the 1990's or even today, and they're liable to keep right on working for decades yet.

Moving on, in a few moments I'll be posting a file containing the varied date systems I've come up with for the setting; it'll be in the Top Dog forum, and it at least sort of applies to both this and Headmaster's Socks.

Goddamn I need to reduce my AN's; oh well, see you all next time.

Doghead Out.


	11. Chapter 9

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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Prince Herb of the Musk was not in the nicest frame of mind.

He was a tall, slender, athletic-looking and devastatingly handsome young man, and he didn't really look like his age; most people would have mistaken him for a youthful twenty-five, rather than a fifteen-year-old. Being well over six foot tall and one of those people who very visibly work out tends to massage upwards the age people take you for.

Herb was quite unaware of this; his self-esteem was a mess, mainly courtesy of his sincerely screwed-up childhood. At age fifteen, he had never met anyone of the female persuasion since before he could remember. And now the Council of Nobles were insisting that he was too old to remain unmarried, thus his current stinking mood.

Married? How the hell was he going to achieve that when he didn't even know what a woman _looked like?_

He'd heard about a billion stories about women, each one weirder than the last – apparently they made absolutely no sense, and could only be counted on to do something no sane man could ever expect or understand.

Of course, the more extreme stories claimed they were ferocious wild animals that would eat any man alive and had to be strictly dominated and kept securely chained to make them safe to be anywhere near, but considering that he'd heard that one from his father, Herb didn't pay it much of any account; the late unlamented Musk emperor had been categorically wrong about everything Herb could remember the man talking about, so why would his opinion of women be anything but what it seemed; inarticulate gibberish ranted in a cloud of spittle by a blithering idiot?

The mildest stories Herb had heard painted women as mysterious and unpredictable beings no man could ever truly understand or control, and apparently they could be a lot of fun for some reason Herb wasn't sure of; a lot of winking and elbow-nudging seemed to be involved, as were the words 'if you know what I mean' repeated ad infinitum. He figured that the truth lay somewhere between the two extremes.

And so it came to be that Prince Herb of the Musk began an attempt to formulate a plan that, if successful, would see him gain a basic understanding of those bizarre creatures called women. And this was what brought him to come walking down out of the Bayanakalas, with a very specific destination in mind and a very specific objective:

Herb was going to Jusenkyo.

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**Disclaimer: This is my disclaimer. I put words on it and it is funny.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**Preread by KuroNeko**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 9: Calm Before the Storm.**

**(In which our heroes have a quiet day while a lot of other people have anything but)**

Wu Chii, age sixteen, was a bag of nerves, and she knew she wasn't alone in that, though she was admittedly unaware that she was in the emotional company of such a luminary as Prince Herb.

There were twenty Amazons onboard the Lazy Jane; fourteen warriors, three slaves, and three males. One of the males, Wu Chii's eighteen-year-old cousin Mu Tze, was a master of the Hidden Weapons style, which was usually only permitted for female use; however, he was the only surviving member of the family to whom the style belonged, so he had (after a long and valiant struggle) been granted permission to keep his mother's inheritance alive to be passed down to his daughters. This led to the highly unconventional situation that Mu Tze, a male Amazon, happened to be a martial arts master; he actually had three female students. For the first time in Amazon history, warriors, honest-to-Hecate warriors, were being taught by a man. All three of Mu Tze's students were aboard the battered old tramp freighter; all three were quite taken with the forthright but half-blind young man, and they refused to ever leave him alone, primarily because some of the more extreme conservative types would love the opportunity to put a bullet or two in Mu Tze's brain while nobody was looking.

Some of the real hardcases (the names Kou Loun and Lo Shin rang a few bells) liked to publicly decry the situation; they claimed that the travesty of allowing a worthless male to teach the fighting arts would lead to the destruction of the Amazon people. Wu Chii privately thought that those mad old bags were a lot more likely to do the job themselves. Your average woman was obviously smarter and tougher than your average man, any idiot could tell you that, but anyone who said there were no men who could play the women's game and have a fighting chance for success was a complete idiot.

Just look at Cousin Mu Tze.

The reason for Wu Chii's concern had nothing to do with that. She was secretly quite proud of her cousin and delighted that he had managed to get his way; it was about bloody time. It had taken the half-blind young man six years to win the Council's permission to study his mother's school, and once he'd mastered it in an alarmingly short six months, it had taken him another two years to get permission to take students. Wu Chii knew for a fact that his master's license had only been granted in an attempt to get Elder Mi Soon (one of the very few forwards-looking elders) to shut up for a while.

No, the reason for Wu Chii's worry was her knowledge of how the Matriarch would react if said old bag ever discovered where the twenty missing Amazons had gone, what they'd taken with them, and what they had planned. At least this was a sort-of-official mission; Mi Soon had been adamant that the Reform required assistance from the Saotome family. Wu Chii wasn't sure why; she had no idea how a bunch of outsider saddle tramps could possibly help win over the Council of Elders, even if one of them was an Amazon's groom, but she _was_ sure that Matriarch Kou Loun would go ballistic if she ever found out exactly what was going on. If Mi Soon's big plan (whatever it was) paid off, by that time the Reform would be a reality instead of a pipe dream and Kou Loun could go whistle for a wind. If not…

But then, for some of them it was damned if you do, damned if you don't. As her elder sister had once said, better to die like a tiger than live like a rat, which especially applied to Lin-Lin; talk about having nothing left to lose. Wu Chii wasn't sure what Lin-Lin had done that got the Matriarch so pissed off, but the seventeen-year-old warrior's execution was scheduled to take place as the highlight of the Summer Games in three months time. Mi Soon and another of the scant number of Reformist elders (Po Da) had sprung the condemned girl, who was by far the most desperate of the twenty; if the Conservatives ever caught her, she'd be glad when they finally allowed her to die.

Lin-Lin's identical twin sister Lan-Lan was also along for the ride. Although they had once been visually indistinguishable (a missing eye and lurid facial scars made Lin-Lin visibly different; they and the scars all over her body were mementos of the interrogation prior to her sentencing) in personality they were almost opposite; Lin-Lin rarely talked while Lan-Lan rarely shut up. Wu Chii could see Lan-Lan having an animated conversation at a silent and taciturn Tiger while Lin-Lin quietly cleaned her Dragunov.

Tiger; now there was one hell of a surprise. Tiger was a dyed-in-the-wool Conservative Amazon, and apart from one thing she was unshakable in her belief in the traditional Amazon ways. That one thing happened to be her little half-sister; Wu Chii. Tiger had caught Wu Chii plotting with Cougar, and told them that either they could take her with them or she'd turn the lot of them in. Wu Chii was glad to have Tiger along; at seven foot two she was the biggest and most physically powerful of all the Joketsuzoku, to the point that she had the honour of ownership of one of the village's tiny number of DShK heavy machine guns, which she used the way most would use a Zastava; she was strong enough to accurately fire the monstrous Russian weapon with one hand. She was even bigger than Dowel, and significantly more experienced in battle; out of the whole group, she was the only warrior older than twenty. Besides, although her mind belonged to the Matriarch, her heart was the private property of her sister and everyone knew it.

Then there were Fox and Cougar, age fifteen. They didn't in look it, but they were twin sisters. Fox was the smallest Amazon, even tinier than Shi; she was very slender and stood only three foot ten tall at full stretch, whereas Cougar was six foot seven and built like, as Xian Pu would put it, 'a fookin' tank'. Fox was a delicate slip of a girl, and Cougar frequently got mistaken for a large and fairly impressive man, aided along by her flat chest and the fact she shaved her head, whereas her tiny twin was busty and had hair longer than her legs. They were almost polar opposites, even down to dress sense; Fox tended not to wear much more than an extremely skimpy bikini, while Cougar never went anywhere without battledress and a dog-eared leather jacket, but once you got past the blatant differences they shared a startling familial resemblance.

Shi. A pint-sized and terminally hyperactive girl, Shi was about four feet tall and talked so fast it was difficult to separate one word from another. She was a slave, officially property of the Matriarch, having been caught stealing a Kalashnikov AK47 from the Matriarch's personal arsenal; she'd been a slave ever since Wu Chii could remember. Oddly, she didn't seem to have aged (or matured) a minute in that time, which was approximately twelve years; she was still the same pint-sized blue-haired lunatic she'd always been. Wu Chii occasionally wondered how old Shi actually was; nobody seemed to know. The AK47 she'd been caught stealing had been successfully stolen this time, and was currently slung across the tiny woman's back as she darted here and there across the Lazy Jane's decks and jabbered on at a mile a minute. If they got caught, she'd be lucky if she was just burned at the stake.

Wolf was another wild card in the group. She was very unusual in that she wasn't a native Amazon; she'd been found as a child by one of the Council of Elders while off on some secret mission somewhere not listed, and said Elder (Mi Soon) had brought the ice-cold blonde girl back to Joketsuzo and adopted her. Nobody knew her exact age, but it was somewhere in the region of eighteen. She was an unnervingly accurate shot with a sniping rifle, to the point that Mi Soon had somehow acquired a Heckler and Koch PSG-1 for her; the day she was given it was the only time Wu Chii had ever seen Wolf smile. She seemed to share some kind of connection with Lin-Lin; the two quiet snipers were usually to be seen together. Currently, she was sat on a packing crate next to Lin-Lin, likewise maintaining her gun. Wolf happened to be number one on the People's Government top hundred Most Wanted list; two years ago she'd shot a People's Army general in the groin from half a mile away, then managed to get to the corpse and scalp it despite the fact that twenty armed soldiers were guarding the body. She'd been seen and shot her way out, putting paid to thirty-five soldiers in the process; a feat that made her a living legend among the young Amazons. She still wore the general's scalp on her drab grey bomber jacket.

As for Ru Ki, she was sitting on top of the tarpaulin-shrouded shapes that were the current centre of Wu Chii's worry. The nineteen-year-old was casually reading a cheap romance novel; it was unnerving how calm she was, considering how Lo Shin (one of Kou Loun's cronies) was liable to be extremely annoyed about the abrupt departure of her favourite punch-bag.

The third slave was of course Si Ren, age fourteen. She was the only member of the group who was certain _not_ to be in deep shit if the Conservatives caught them; she belonged to Xian Pu O'Conner as of the Youth Tournament three years before, at which she had been a central component of first prize. Xian Pu had left without leaving her slave any instructions, and in that situation it was a slave's obligation to follow her mistress. Unfortunately, things were liable to get a bit hairy, and Wu Chii knew for a fact Xian Pu would go _ballistic_ if Si Ren got hurt; the Champion seemed to regard the young slave as a daughter.

Then there was Mao Xing O'Conner. He was Xian Pu's elder brother by six years, and shared a very visible familial resemblance to her; he was short, stocky, pale-skinned and brawny, but unlike his sister (Who was an albino of sorts) he had jet black hair and was a truck mechanic rather than a fighter. They had very similar body language, and shared their father's County Down accent, quick intelligence, and sarcastic Irish sense of humour; his propensity for barbed comments had got him in trouble with the Council of Elders a time or two, but he had a remarkable ability to worm his way out of it, which was probably the only reason he hadn't been gelded and, come to think of it, was still breathing. This time, if Kou Loun caught up with him he'd be a dead man; he'd left the village without written permission from at least three female relatives, in fact he'd taken off without the permission of _anyone_. Wu Chii was downright terrified he'd get hurt; if anyone harmed a hair on her brother's head ballistic wouldn't even start to describe how thoroughly Xian Pu would fly off the handle. Besides, he was cute in a cynical wisecracking Irish sort of a way; Wu Chii had been trying to get his attention for a couple of years now.

There were others in the group, of course, but those were the ones Wu Chii was worried about for whatever reason; the rest of them either had an excuse the Council might accept or could take care of themselves, or both.

Wu Chii glanced back at the tarpaulin-shrouded shapes of the thing that would definitely cause the Matriarch to go ballistic; a pair of fully-equipped gun trucks. If Mi Soon's plan didn't work and the runaway Amazons found themselves before the Council for sentencing, the death penalty would be the least of their worries; Joketsuzo had twenty-three armed and armoured three-axle trucks which they used to patrol for People's Army ambushes on the many roads around the Valley of Three Tribes. Heavy weapons like the Goryunov machine guns were in chronically short supply, and the loss of those two trucks would set the village's combat schedule back by nearly six months; stealing them was the most frightening thing Wu Chii and Lin-Lin had ever done. If they got caught, they could truthfully claim that they were using the trucks to transport Xian Pu O'Conner's sizeable collection of weaponry to where it belonged, but it probably wouldn't fly and they'd still be screwed.

And that was of course why they weren't going to Japan by Chinese trawler. The Lazy Jane was a highly disreputable tramp freighter, her rust-coated steel hull dating back to the Second World War, and she flew the Union Jack; that said, her voyages were usually completely outside the law. The ports she docked at didn't appear on any chart; Wu Chii knew perfectly well that the packing cases Lan-Lan and Wolf were sat on happened to be full of handguns and ammunition destined for one of Japan's most notorious Yakuza families, and the aft hold contained a cargo of two hundred slavegirls who had been bought in Egypt and were to be sold to some kind of less-than-legal organisation in Japan. It seemed said organisation was not a Yakuza family, which had Wu Chii absently wondering whenever she wasn't busy worrying. She hated being aboard such a dodgy vessel, but they hadn't had a whole lot of choice; it was that or a route the Matriarch's people could easily trace.

They'd already had to break a few wrists; most of the scummy seamen who populated the run-down wreck of a ship didn't want to understand that when a girl says 'shove off' she means exactly that. Two hours out of port, it had got so bad that Dowel was now holding a machine gun to the captain's head in shift with Tiger and Cougar; it seemed the sleazy thug had been planning to bash the varied Amazons over the head and add them to his hold-full of slaves once his scumbag crew had got done raping them.

All in all, this was going to be one of the very few times in living history that someone was _given_ money at gunpoint. Breaking the law is just breaking the law; there are occasions that obeying the law would be the wrong thing to do. For example, it's illegal to shoot someone in the face for a fairly obvious reason, but if you're holding a gun and you find someone raping some poor chick, and they don't back off when you point your shooter at them and tell them to get the Hell away from the girl, if you centred the gunsights on the sick bastard's nose and pulled the trigger, you'd be doing the right thing. The cops would likely bust you anyway (the police tend to take a dim view if you blow someone's brains out) but at least at the end of the day you'd be able to say you did what any decent person would do given that situation.

Losing your honour, on the other hand, is a whole different kettle of fish. Honour is the entire reason behind the Joketsuzoku's war against the People's Government of China; without honour, life would not be worth living, and acting like a common bandit would be seriously dishonourable.

And sometimes, if you're going to get out with your honour intact, you can't obey the law; after all, laws are only as honourable as the people who make and enforce them.

As all this was running through her head, Wu Chii was quite unaware of three sets of eyes carefully watching her. These eyes belonged to a trio of nine-year-old girls named Sam, Puma, and Su Li. They were hiding under the tarp that was slung over the ammo crates in the back of one of the gun trucks; they had been hiding there since Sam overheard Wu Chii and Mi Soon planning the theft of the vehicles. Sam had been adamant that it was essential she accompany the mission, and her two bosom buddies had been equally adamant that they were going with her. If Wu Chii had realised that the so-called Terrible Three were there, she'd have gone ballistic, and if she then discovered that Shi had noticed the three girls an hour out of Joketsuzo and decided not to say anything because she thought it was a good thing that the three were getting _out_ of there, she'd probably have wrung Shi's neck.

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Arriving in the ballistics lab, Jitsuyama had a glance around. The weaponry he and Matsubara had liberated from the bombed-out restaurant was stacked in neat lines on tables around the lab; Okuno was critically examining a series of deformed slugs in varying calibres.

"Got anything?" Jitsuyama asked. "Miyuke said you were looking for me."

"Looks like we've ID'ed who killed that Kobayashi guy." Okuno said, looking up from his bullets. "Looks like someone decided to return the compliment."

"How's that?" Jitsuyama asked.

"Two of the Thompson M1A1's you got from that restaurant were the ones used in the drive-by." Okuno said. "We got matches for those slugs you dug out the wall; seventh and eighth out of one, fifth out the other. Do you reckon this was a response to Kobayashi getting whacked?"

Jitsuyama slowly shook his head.

"I have no idea. I hope not. If it is, we're looking at a gang war unlike anything we've ever seen, at least since roadkill week – and at least the renegade truckers weren't using automatic weaponry and incendiary grenades."

Okuno grimaced. "Whoever hit that place wasn't mucking around. The slugs were scored and drilled in the tips."

"Any anomalous organic material?" Jitsuyama asked, a horrible feeling sneaking up on him.

"Yeah, aconite sap again."

"Shit." Jitsuyama muttered. Okuno looked faintly puzzled, handed over a preliminary report, and went back to examining his bullets as Jitsuyama headed back to the office.

Halfway up, he met Matsubara coming the other way.

"Ah, there you are." Matsubara said. "The guy who called us in for that mess at the restaurant is ready to make a statement, and I think you'd better be along for it."

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Ranma was working on his bike again.

Over the last few days, Akane had noticed that the young biker spent more time with his machine in pieces than he did riding it; it always seemed to need some sort of work done, probably because of how far he was pushing it's performance with the modifications he'd done to the engine and drivetrain. It had holed a piston on the way back from the park, and now he had the heads and block off the engine, and was carefully constructing new pistons from the titanium he had left over from making the gearbox.

While he was doing that, Akane was working right beside him, carefully paring down a sliver of metal that was destined to become a firing pin. It had originally been a bent knitting needle, and its new job would be igniting the primer in her next Frankengun.

Getting to examine the workings of three mass-produced guns – an H&K P7, an MG3, and Xian Pu's Zastava – had been a real treat; it was the first time Akane had been able to properly look at the workings of guns she hadn't made, and it had given her several valuable ideas. Just the way Genma's old machine gun's feed system was laid out had allowed Akane to make a paradigm shift in the way she approached the design of firearms, and investigating the internal workings of a Kalashnikov-style rifle and a Heckler and Koch pistol provided the icing on that particular cake; all three were classic firearms designs with a bunch of excellent ideas inside the frame. Akane had a load of Kalshnokov AK47 technical drawings, but she'd never handled a real Kalasher before, and never mind stripped it down and examined what made it tick. The net result was she'd spent most of the evening after their return from the park drawing up plans, and now Frankengun 11 was officially obsolete.

Most of the rest of the family were sprawled around the living room and patio; Genma wasn't present, he was out at the building site, but apart from him everyone was about. Kasumi was pouring over a Haynes manual and mumbling something about penguins to herself. Nabiki was lounging on a sofa with her laptop on her knees. Soun was reading the financial pages of the daily newspaper and making notes in his little red book. Xian Pu was noodling around with her guitar, repeatedly playing slightly different versions of a somewhat rockabilly riff she claimed to be trying to get right. Micheru was snoozing on the other end of the sofa from Nabiki.

As for Rei, she was sitting in her usual chair out on the patio and staring off into the eighth dimension or some-such. Akane idly mused to herself that it was odd how fast the combined families had established an equilibrium. It had been less than a week since the Saotomes rolled up at the Tendo dojo, and it already felt like half a lifetime.

"I've got a feelin' somethin's gonna happen." Ranma remarked.

Kasumi got to her feet and wandered out towards the garage, muttering something about luck nuts and sprunge plates, then stopped dead in her tracks with a startled noise as soon as she was outside.

"Come have a look at this!"

Everyone caught the barely-suppressed excitement in Kasumi's voice, which was unusual to say the least, so they followed her out to the patio; Micheru woke up with her usual gargle and went to see what the fuss was about.

Horse was sat in Rei's lap, purring like a kitten, and she was stroking him. For the first time since they'd known her, she was actually reacting to something in the world around her.

"What'd yeh know it?" Xian Pu whispered.

Nabiki smiled, unearthed her camera, and took a photograph.

"I _knew_ getting _this_ cat was a _good idea_." Kasumi said with evident satisfaction, and proceeded to the garage whereupon she started doing something noisy and probably oily to her car.

"I _still_ got a feelin' somethin's gonna happen." Ranma muttered. "And that weren't it."

"I guess she had one of _those_ again." Akane said.

"Huh?" Ranma grunted, going back to his pistons.

"You know how Kasumi's a medium, right?" Akane checked; Ranma nodded.

"Well," Akane continued, "Occasionally she gets a sort of flash or something, or just gets possessed by a ghost that isn't the usual ones, I'm not sure which, and does something totally random that turns out to have a really good reason – the last time she did that, well, apparently the school would have exploded if she hadn't thrown a nail bar onto the distribution board and blacked out the whole of Nerima. There was a gas leak in the abandoned bunkers, and it would have reached some damaged wiring in the ruins of the old high-energy physics classroom that was sparking until the power went down, though I've gotta say I'm kinda concerned about the radiation dose the martial arts electricians must have picked up getting that close to what's left of the tokomak reactor."

"Pity the containment systems went down and those blasted biology experiments escaped _yet again_." Nabiki groused. "It's a good thing Moreau-sensei installed the automated countermeasures after the time they nearly ate Frankenstein-sensei, or it might have been time for Kuno to load up the trebuchet again. Ow." This last was said in response to Akane hitting her. "Oh well, at least only three people got eaten that time, and at least I'd had the sense to jump out the window when the power went down. Sprained ankles are better than citrus detoxification any day. Quit hitting me _already_, Akane."

Ranma, Xian Pu, and Micheru all shared a round of highly doubtful looks.

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"Tell me in your own words what you saw." Matsubara said.

"I was walking south on 12th, I was about twenty yards from the restaurant when they opened up." The English man replied. He was a pretty impressive specimen – tall, with a powerful build, and that air of cool predatory competence you only get from highly trained fighting men, and he was oh so _very_ English. He probably attended the Church of England, enjoyed a game of cricket, liked to take pot-shots at deer and grouse, drove a Range-Rover, chased foxes with dogs while on a horse, drank sherry, wore green wellies and tweed, and enjoyed a nice cup of tea with the vicar on the weekend. "The first thing I saw was a silver four wheel drive stationary at a red light; I believe it was a Toyota Land Cruiser, though I can't say for certain. I didn't think anything of it until the fellow in the front passenger seat leant out with a FAL and underslung, and fired his underslung into that café window. From the smell it was a white phosphorous incendiary, and I have reasons to believe it hit someone; I haven't smelt that terrible stench in quite some years. Fortunately I glanced over when I heard him launch, so I can tell you for certain the one in the rear left passenger seat was a woman, her frame was all wrong for a man you see. She was armed with an MP5, and the chap in the rear right passenger seat had a matching weapon; both of them had sizeable drum magazines that change the weapon's profile in quite a distinctive fashion. I positioned myself and Kathy in cover at once; I placed a parked car between us and the gunmen and got myself right down onto the tarmac with Kathy beneath me – if one is exceptionally fortunate a human body will slow a bullet down enough that it won't kill the person behind you, especially if one combines oneself with a Mercedes, and you can be quite certain I'm fully prepared to exchange my life for my daughter's at any time."

"I'm sorry you had to see that, sir." Jitsuyama said.

"Oh, it's the way things go sometimes." Colonel Alexander Joachim Bryce said with a gloomy nod. "Especially when there are well-equipped and trained terrorists around; ah well, stiff upper lip and all that, eh? At any rate, those blighters fired several magazines; the chap with the MP5 reloaded thrice, the young lady reloaded once and the chap with the rifle reloaded twice. The rifle had to be a FAL and not an SLR since he had it on cyclic; the good old L1A1 is semi-automatic only and the parts don't match the metric FAL so it's a right blighter of a job to convert the SLR to selective, even if you've got the necessary FAL components. That's fair bit of firepower with the sizeable drum magazines they were using, and from the terrible mess the bullets left when they hit I'd be willing to swear they were scored. I saw one of the chaps coming out the door produce a Skorpion, it's a Czech sub-machine gun approximately the size of a large pistol, nasty little blighter, but the poor fellow went down before he could open fire. Those blighters certainly knew their stuff; if you give a civilian a sub-machine gun or an automatic rifle he'll usually fire the entire magazine off as soon as he opens up, and they were firing short controlled bursts – pop off three or four shots, reacquire the target, another little squeeze – and they were hitting with every bullet they fired. It's not as if they were working at long range, but when a chap puts every bullet in the clip into the target you know he's not playing silly buggers, especially with such large magazines. I evacuated myself and Kathy as soon as the terrorists pulled away, and then I called you chaps. I believe you know the rest."

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"Well, that was a stroke of luck." Matsubara remarked, handing Jitsuyama a cup of coffee. "The chances of a soldier of _his_ calibre being nearby must have been pretty slim, but let's not question it."

Jitsuyama blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I checked Bryce's background." Matsubara said. "I had to call in a few favours with a pal in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to find this; he's the commanding officer of the British Army's Twenty-Two Special Air Service. That guy holds the Victoria Cross, that's the Brits highest decoration for valour in combat. He used to work with Rainbow Six before he was moved up to overall command of the SAS; he's one of the top ten most experienced soldiers on the planet."

"That's one _hell_ of a witness." Jitsuyama murmured.

"I don't think he's here on official business seeing as how he's got his wife and kid with him, but we can't be too certain about that." Matsubara said with a nod. "The M.O.F.A's being justifiably cagey about the whole mess."

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Kodachi set the slim dossier down and turned to gaze out the window over Nerima and towards the heart of Tokyo, her eyes habitually looking towards where she knew the Forbidden Palace was hidden by high-rise buildings.

It seemed that the Saotome and Tendo families were the leaders of a pair of ancient secret societies of largely similar nature. Secret societies that made the Yakuza look like an old wives gossip society. Their forefathers had cut a bloody swathe across the history of Japan and the larger world; any family that crossed them was exterminated to the last child. They were a bit like what you'd get if you took the worst features of the Yakuza, the Freemasons, the Hell's Angels, a ninja clan, and a horde of rabid dogs, and fused them into one hellish whole.

No wonder Akane could openly carry a handgun – if Sasuke's findings were correct, Nerima was effectively an independent nation within Japan, and Soun Tendo was the absolute overlord of that nation. Japanese law was only enforced within Nerima on Soun Tendo's sufferance; at any time, he could turn around and throw Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department out of the prefecture, and the government would do nothing about it because they were scared of Soun Tendo. His power was apparently unlimited; within Nerima, the law was what Soun Tendo said it was.

And they were all just as dangerous. Ranma alone was known to be a master-level practitioner of at least four schools of martial arts, with a good footing in dozens more, many of them so obscure that Sasuke had been unable to find anything more solid than rumours. Supposedly, Ranma's father had been a major player in what passed for a resistance during the American occupation of Japan. Supposedly, Ranma's mother had once declared a one-trucker war on a prominent Yakuza family – the same family that murdered Kodachi's mother – and almost completely exterminated them with some minor assistance from some other renegade truckers; she was a swordmistress, a crackshot with any firearm, and her rig was more heavily armoured than a JGSDF Type 74 tank. Her personal bodycount was well into four figures.

The statement that the Yakuza who had given the order that led to the death of Kodachi's mother had been dragged to his death along a road by one ankle behind a tractor-truck at speeds of over a hundred and fifty miles per hour gave Kodachi some momentary satisfaction.

But there was one word that was repeated over and over again in the information about the Saotome and Tendo families, a word that led Kodachi to stare out the window with unseeing eyes towards where she knew the Chrysanthemum Throne to be, wondering how much of what she thought she knew was actually wrong – a word that made her wonder whether the statement that, 'It is the Moroboshi's duty to guard the Home Islands from any and all supernatural threats', might actually be deadly serious rather than being based in antiquated beliefs – a word that made her wonder exactly what in God's name was really going on.

And that word was, _**Werewolf**_.

--- End Chapter ---

AN -

Well, I had a bastard of a time with this chapter, but it's here now. I'm still not sure about it, but I'm going to post it and get cracking with the next portion of the plot instead of sitting and stewing any longer.

Yup, the truth's beginning to come out, and the first elements of the coming crunch are heading for Nerima. If this chapter seems a bit disjointed, that's because it's almost entirely setting things up for the next section of the fic – after I posted chapter 8, I realised there were a load of things I needed to set up onscreen before I went ahead with the next steps of the plot.

When I described Sasuke's shrug last chapter, 'Gallic' was not a mistake; the shrug in question is that very expansive and equally very French type of shrug. The people who use that sort of mannerisms are typically from the area that used to be ancient Gaul. I've seen it described as things like 'a very Gallic shrug' or 'that peculiarly Gallic shrug' several places. Only Frenchmen usually shrug quite like that; exactly where Sasuke picked that mannerism up from is open to debate.

The lack of a description of the sword was an artefact of the way I assembled that chapter; it's been corrected, as has an extraneous mention of Xian Pu from where I'd intended the sequence with Kodachi to be a touch longer. I'll repeat the description here for anyone who doesn't want to go back and check:

'It looked much like a katana, but a touch on the short side and with a blade as straight as an arrow, finished a gleaming jet black, and with an oddly European-looking crossguard.'

I can't believe I forgot that. Duh.

The pun with the Cadillac being launched down a football field comes from the fact that what we call football here in the UK is what people call soccer over in North America, so what you would call a soccer pitch we would call a football field. As scoring is referred to as 'a goal', I think you can probably now see where the pun came from. Yes, it's a horrible one.

Concerning Herb's thoughts about women, don't tell me you think the Musk would exactly be feminists. They and the Amazons are (in the Biker Half context) supposed to be polar opposites; the Amazons are severely misodranic (sp?) by tradition, the Musk are severely misogynistic by tradition. Which one is worse? That's a matter of perspective.

Gun trucks were invented by the US Army during the Vietnam War. Take a medium-size all-terrain truck, armour it with as much plate metal as you can get your hands on, and arm it with as many machine guns as you can scrounge up, then paint on a name and logo in the vein of WW2 bomber nose art. You have a gun truck. In Nam, these trucks were used to guard convoys along Ambush Alley; as soon as a convoy got ambushed, it was the gun trucks' job to boot it for the ambush point with all guns blazing. They were surprisingly effective by all accounts. Note that the sort of armour involved is popularly known as 'Hillbilly Armour' or 'Farmer Armour', and involves scrap metal and preferably some spacing to stop HESH and HEAP charges. Today, there are gun trucks doing their best to protect convoys in Iraq, though ambushes aren't so much of a problem as in Nam; the main problem these days is roadside bombs (aka Improvised Explosive Devices) and a gun truck can't do much against a home-made landmine.

Just so you know, luck nuts and sprunge plates are **not** components of a car. They're not much of anything, in fact.

The level of strangeness at Furinkan is inspired by prolonged exposure to the Anime Addventure. Yes, they have Dr Moreau and Dr Frankenstein as biology teachers, and there's a downscaled version of Chernobyl in the basement. The rest of the context of Akane and Nabiki's remarks is still under construction.

For Bryce's accent, I decided that, since he's in 22 SAS and he's in a story primarily centred on Japanese characters, I'd better exaggerate his English-ness, so I turned to James Bigglesworth and Dan Dare for linguistic pointers. Apart from the Eton-educated set, the word 'Chap' and the term 'Poor devils' are actually very unusual in the English language as spoken in England, as is describing something as a 'blighter', the line about stiff upper lips, and the phrase 'Playing silly buggers'. It's always bemused me how about the only examples of the many, many British accents (and types of British person) you tend to see in movies are either Cockneys or upper-class twerps; I'd be surprised if many Americans had any idea what a Scouser or a Liverpudlian sounds like, and I'd be equally surprised if many Americans could accurately identify a Ross-Shire accent further than being Scottish. The British Isles are a pretty small place, but what we lack in elbow room we more than make up for in variety. But then, I'm a fine one to talk; I can't tell one American accent from the other, so I can see where you guys are coming from in relation to the accents of Britain.

Wellies – Wellington boots – gumboots – rubber boots. Just thought I'd translate. Green wellies are the trademark footwear of the hunting-shooting-fishing tweed-wearing Range-Rover driving upper-class Englishman, probably educated at Eton and possessed of a one-digit IQ. Oh, I say, tally ho chaps! Jolly good show, eh what?

I originally had Jitsuyama unfamiliar with scored ammunition, but it seemed a bit unlikely considering the number of messy situations he's dealt with over the years. In case anyone reading this doesn't know, scoring ammunition entails cutting a deep X-shape into the tip of the bullet, which will then mushroom way more when it hits the target. It's far more effective than a normal hollowpoint, and is in fact against the Geneva Convention.

Well, catch you all next time.

Doghead Out.


	12. Chapter 10

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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_Here come the clearances my friend_

_Silently our history is coming to life again_

_We feel the breeze from the storm to come_

_And up and down this coast_

_We're waiting for the wheel to turn_

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It was an hour since the Lazy Jane docked, and Fox could feel the tension building in the air as the cargo cranes lowered the second gun truck onto the pier. The Amazons had concealed the trucks weapons with tarps but for all that they'd have to hide by day, move by night; in among the typical traffic of Japan, a pair of wildly decorated Chinese three-axle trucks clad in jerry-built armour and crewed by women in battledress, flamboyant-but-black leather armour, and colourful hair dye, would attract all the wrong sorts of attention.

Across the water in China, your typical person would, on seeing Amazons coming, turn the other way, shut their eyes, and hum very loudly so they could truthfully say they hadn't seen or heard anything of note.

This was for three reasons.

Firstly, the government was fervently after the Amazons, damning them as rebels and terrorists.

Secondly, the common Chinese peasant was secretly on the Amazon's side. Those few warrior women were the only people in China with both the guts to stand up and tell the government to go screw itself, and the stealth and skill at arms to survive doing so. They were folk heroines, seen as the voice of freedom for the Chinese people.

And thirdly, most importantly, the Amazons scare the ever-living crap out of anyone who has the slightest idea what they're capable of. The People's Army is an immense organisation; the entire population of many countries in the Western world is smaller than the Chinese army, yet a scant few hundred women with brightly-dyed hair, leather armour, and stolen Soviet equipment are capable of standing up to and repeatedly defeating that immense military juggernaut. Rumour had it that the Amazons were demons given flesh, that they couldn't be killed, that they could turn invisible, and that their bullets, once fired, would chase their target _forever_, even into the afterlife.

The Amazons do everything they can to take advantage of that superstition; their body armour is decorated with intricate silver embroidery (because apparently demons are good at handcraft) and is composed of black leather reinforced with heavy steel studs (because apparently demons are kinda, y'know, rock-and-roll) they wear their hair (in it's traditional brightly-hued dye) in intricate styles (because apparently demons have some like, punk influences going on) they collect the scalps of the PRC officers they kill (because apparently demons like chewing up their victims) their vehicles are decorated with wild and flamboyant paint schemes that would put traditional gypsy caravans to shame (because apparently demons aren't scared of ground-attack aircraft) and they primarily employ hit-and-run tactics – a few bullets in the right place then vanish, only to sneak back under the cover of darkness and mutilate any corpse unfortunate enough to be dressed in an officer's uniform.

Because, y'know, as far as the Amazons can see, anyone able to become _important_ in the People's Republic of China _deserves_ to be chopped up into itty bitty pieces, preferably while still able to scream about it.

However, Japan was a different kettle of fish.

Your average Japanese salaryman would take grave exception to a bunch of lurid-haired foreign weirdoes running around with machine guns, and wouldn't hesitate to pick up the telephone and inform the local police. No mere Japanese cop could take on a full hunter pack of Amazon warriors, but motor infantry (even Amazon warriors, the finest motor infantry the Earth had ever seen) couldn't take on a large number of rotary-winged aircraft able to kill tanks from below the horizon without the correct equipment – equipment the small group of runaways didn't have.

Back in the Valley of Three Tribes, it was a different story altogether. There was tales of the mountains coming to life and spitting forth the light of the Goddess of Death herself; no invading army could stand when the land itself turned against the foes of the Three Tribes. Fox had no idea if those tales were true, but she _did_ know no People's Government aircraft overflew the Valley.

Ever.

She walked over to the first gun truck –Hera's Vengeance – and scrambled up into the cab. It was the vehicle Cougar was commander of; Fox's twin had greeted the news that they'd be taking 'her' truck with not inconsiderable relief. All the patrol packs said Hera's Vengeance had the good will of the goddess it was named for; it had survived no less than three direct hits from rocket-propelled grenades over the years, and saved its crew's lives all three times. Cougar was already sat in the driver's seat, her hand hovering over the ignition keys; Rai Gar was stood on the centre seat, checking over the Russian-made Goryunov SG43 medium machine gun that was mounted in the hip-ring on the roof and muttering the occasional curse as the tarp obstructed her.

Fox didn't envy Wu Chii her leadership of the mission in the slightest as she watched the taller girl paying the Lazy Jane's captain as Tiger and Dowel finished unhooking the other gun truck – Lil' Death Machine – from the crane. All Fox had to do was shoot straight and fight hard; the survival of twenty Amazons (and quite possibly the Reform itself, and with it all hope for a better tomorrow) was resting on Wu Chii's slender shoulders.

"She's tough." Cougar said, sensing Fox's thoughts. "She'll be okay."

Fox shut her eyes for a moment, then nodded. Rai Gar, who was now done with the checks on the machine gun, gave her a sympathetic touch on the shoulder and started checking over the twin-linked RPK light machine guns that projected from the front of the cab where the passenger side windscreen had once been. Fox had another look out the cab, and saw Wu Chii walking over to Lil' Death Machine; the older girl swung up into the other gun truck's cab, and then her fist pumped through the side vision slit in the signal to go and Cougar turned the key; the exhaust pipes spat black smoke as the engines came roaring into life, and Fox let out a little sigh as the wheels began to turn.

About the only Amazon who didn't know Fox was head-over-heels in love with Wu Chii was Wu Chii, because Fox had never dared tell her, and no Amazon was cruel enough to spill Fox's beans. Fox was quite certain Wu Chii had no interest in her; who the hell would _want_ an orange-haired midget who wasn't even strong enough to handle a Zastava?

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**Disclaimer: I found airsoft pellets in my tobacco pouch. Those fracking things get everywhere.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**Preread by KuroNeko**

**This one's for anyone who has ever stood up to Big Brother and said, 'No'. Without those few brave souls, this world would be a hell of a lot less pleasant to live in, and there's still a need for them even today, even in the 'civilised' world. Stand up and be counted; freedom will always be worth fighting for.**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 10: Waiting for the wheel to turn.**

**(In which various people have revealing conversations, and various Amazons continue their odyssey)**

Two days had passed in relative peace and quiet. Rei had continued reacting only to the cat, and Ranma had continued getting his something's-going-to-happen feeling; he was getting increasingly jumpy as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

And drop it did on the morning of the third day when Nabiki saw the front page of the newspaper; she yelped, grabbed it off her father, flipped through, stared blankly at the page, and went as white as a sheet.

She'd been acting weirder and weirder as the days passed; she seemed to be flip-flopping between jumping at shadows and acting like a cat on a hot tin roof.

"Oh Hell no. No, no, no, no…" She whispered, dropping the newspaper; she turned and ran out the room.

Ranma frowned and picked the discarded paper up while Soun blinked bemusedly at his now empty hands.

The headline was about yet another gangland-style drive-by shooting; this time the victim was a TMPD detective named Koji Jitsuyama.

Ranma turned to the leading article and had a good read. It seemed that the cop in question had left a wife and three daughters, and the car used in the attack (a blue 1996 Toyota Land Cruiser) had been found abandoned and on fire in Aeroka Harbour City. The article painted Jitsuyama as an honest, hard-working cop with a long line of solved cases under his belt, and a well-liked family man; reading between the lines, Ranma could tell that Jitsuyama had been a popular guy around the station.

His frown deepening, he put the paper down on the table, rose to his feet, and followed Nabiki up the stairs; Soun muttered something impolite and picked the paper back up.

Most of the time, Ranma did his best to clatter around like a clumsy lout. He made a point of making a lot of noise when he moved, simply because he liked people not knowing that, even dressed in full leathers and heavy boots, he could move as quietly as a cat when he wanted to.

Nabiki's door was open; he peered in. She was sat in front of her desk, her elbows propped each side of her computer's keyboard, with her head in her hands.

He knocked on the doorframe; Nabiki jerked and quickly looked round.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"I wanna talk." Ranma said, coming in and closing the door. "I wanna know what ya got yerself involved in."

"So what's it to you?" Nabiki snapped.

There was a creak of springs as Ranma sat down on her bed. He contemplated her for a long moment; she contemplated him right back.

"Listen, Nabiki." He finally said, his accent vanishing. "I'm supposed to be engaged to one of you three, right? Akane's out, she's not interested. Kasumi frankly creeps me out; I am _not_ cool with that whole possession thing. That leaves you, which means you've got yourself backup. I don't know what's going on with those drive-by shootings and I don't know why you're so freaked out about it, but if there's any way I can help, consider it done. I know for damn sure Micheru and Shampoo will say the exact same thing. You're _family_, and_ we stick up for our own_." He sighed and looked out the window. "Even when they haven't realised they're one of us."

Nabiki stared at him for a long moment, then exploded.

"Just what the Hell do you think you could do to help?" she spat. "I just recently found out that, as far as the system's concerned, I don't exist. The government doesn't have any records of me _or_ my sisters. Jitsuyama put me in touch with Kobayashi. Less than ten hours later, Kobayashi was mowed down in the street. Jitsuyama thinks – thought – that the hit on that restaurant was a revenge attack on whoever killed Kobayashi. Before he was murdered, Kobayashi gave me a list of names, people who I should be able to get some answers from. I gave a copy of the list to Jitsuyama, and last night he went to talk to the first person on the list – and now he's dead. All this shit came up thanks to your bloody parents. Did you know your mother's birth certificate is classified, and your father doesn't have one?"

Ranma shrugged. "Makes sense. Dad wuz a resistance fighter durin' th' occupation, an' he ain't never talked much about his past – I'm not even sure if he's actually Japanese. I mean, fer fuck sake. How many Japanese people ya know who're over six foot tall?"

"He's got a Japanese name." Nabiki pointed out.

Ranma shrugged again. "That don't mean nothin, I know a guy who's changed identities six times. Wouldn't put it past Dad – he acts like he's thick as pigshit an' I sometimes reckon he don't quite get th' whole civilisation thing, but he's a sneaky old bastard when he needs ta be, an' wiv somea th' places I know Dad's been, either yer sneaky or yer dead. But whatever. We're sorta engaged, right? So that means ya ain't alone in all this. Yer problems automatically become my problems, right? An' one thing ya really oughtta know about us Saotomes is, we're about as hard ta kill as a wombat." He idly pulled his T-shirt up, revealing a pattern of knotted scar tissue across his belly. "That wuz where I got shot wiv an RPK when we wuz in Afghanistan, an' I killed th' guy who shot me before I fell over swearin', so don't worry about me gettin' blown away out there, it ain't gonna happen. I can't dodge bullets, but I _can_ stop 'em dead in their tracks."

"Right now information is the key." Nabiki said, going back into her analytical mode at last. "What can you do about that?"

Ranma frowned. "Not a huge lot, but what th' hey, two geniuses gotta be better'n one, right? An' anyway, if ya get yerself a Ranma ya get one free Micheru ta sweeten th' deal." He scratched his jaw. "I've got a suggestion, and I'd like you to hear me out before jumping to conclusions, okay?"

Nabiki nodded doubtfully. "Go ahead.

"There's one thing I know for damn sure about Dad." Ranma said. "He never _ever_ lets a member of his family down. If you're family and you ask him something, he'll tell you the truth; if he can't, he'll say so. My suggestion is that we make this engagement thing official, at least temporarily."

"I don't know if I'm cool with this whole polygamy thing." Nabiki said.

Ranma nodded. "Fair enough. Feel like givin' it a shot, see how it goes?"

"This had better not just be a ploy to get into my pants." Nabiki growled.

Ranma glared at her. "What the fuck do you take me for? You may be used to dealing with slug-brained hormone-addled fuck-ups, but that doesn't make me one of them. Yeah, I like pussy just as much as the next guy; well, I have _never_ touched a girl without her permission, and _I never will_."

Nabiki chewed on that for a moment, then dismissed it with a flick of her fingers. "What's Shampoo's take on all this?"

Ranma snorted, calming down. "I asked her about ya an' yer sisters th' first night we wuz here. She reckoned she's down with sharing, especially if I'm down with sharing."

"So what's that supposed to mean?"

"Shampoo's bisexual, remember?" Ranma pointed out. "She thinks yer hot an' she wants ta get inta yer pants. She won't do nothin' unless yer cool wiv it, but I know fer damn sure she wants ta make this a three-way relationship. She said if she's gotta share me wiv ya, she wants ta share ya wiv me."

Nabiki considered that for a moment.

"I'll need to think about it." She said. "And I'll need to talk to Shampoo in private."

With that, she got up and went looking for a certain Amazon, completely failing to notice Akane leaning against the wall in the hall.

Ranma snorted, got up, and slouched out into the hall; he immediately noticed Akane, who was giving him a thoughtful look.

"Wot?" he said.

"Let's go somewhere private." Akane said. "I need a word with you."

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Wu Chii sat and watched the world go by.

They'd slunk into Tokyo the previous night, and found a derelict warehouse down on the waterfront, in which they were now parked. She was a bit uneasy about what was just up the road – a line of buildings that looked much like the bastard child of a warehouse and an aircraft hanger, with the logo of Tokyo Advanced Police Department's Special Vehicles Division painted along the side. However, the familiar crack of gunfire on the police base's firing range was helping to steady her nerves, even though it was a different sort of gun from what she was used to hearing, and so she was coping.

A sniff from beside her alerted her to Wolf's presence. The blonde sniper was sitting on a large steel shelving unit that had once held pallets, her PSG-1 cradled in her arms, and casually aiming at varied things on the police base – Wu Chii knew that if she asked, Wolf would claim to be checking the alignment of her scope.

"What's the plan?"

That, on the other hand, was Lan-Lan. Wu Chii turned her back on the dusty windows and scanned her eyes across the assembled party of Amazons, most of whom were lounging on and around the two trucks.

"Now we find Xian Pu." Wu Chii said.

"Yeah, but _how_?" Dowel asked.

"You Reformists _piss me off_." Tiger remarked. "Same lie, different dye. Wake up, little children; there is more to the world than one insignificant village jammed in the arse end of nowhere in the middle of half a continent of trigger-happy thugs."

"Whatever." Dowel snapped. "If you haven't got anything useful to say, keep your face shut."

Tiger gave her an annoyed look.

"Don't give me that shit, girl." She said. "Let's face facts. Okay, so we're in Tokyo, great. Well, we ain't even halfway done. This city makes Joketsuzo look like a zit on an ass the size of God; how exactly do you intend to find one girl in this?"

"We ask around. Someone's sure to have seen her." Cougar said.

Tiger rolled her eyes.

"Country girl." She muttered. "Look, Cougar. You're used to operating in small towns, maximum population a couple thousand. Places like that, everyone is familiar. May I remind you, this is a city? There are several million people around us, and none of them trust strangers. Oh, and most of them dislike foreigners, which means us. Round here, if you're Chinese or Korean, you're a half-brained twit from a backwards country, and probably have all the intelligence and personality of a severely dyslexic cockroach. If you're from Europe or America, you're an idiotic giant. The only thing you'll achieve if you go around waving around Xian Pu's picture and asking if people have seen her is, someone will call the police, and may I remind you we are wanted women? We are in this country illegally, and we are wanted terrorists back in China. If we meet Mr Policeman, we will die. Maybe not immediately, but I would like you to understand that Tokyo Advanced Police Department do not fuck around."

"So what do you suggest?" Wolf checked, coolly contemplating the big Conservative.

"This is not the first time I have operated in this city." Tiger stated. "It's surprising how many contacts a girl can build up over fifteen years as a troubleshooter for the Council. I suggest we speak to one of my contacts."

"So who's this contact, and what's she do?" Lan-Lan asked.

"She's a housewife at a shrine up in the hills to the north." Tiger said. "She also just so happens to be dead."

Dowel exploded.

"Oh for… Tiger, are you taking the piss? How in the hell is a dead woman going to be any help, or have you got some secret powers of communion with the dead you haven't been telling anyone about?"

Tiger snorted.

"You'll find out." She said. "I'm going to go get changed into something a little less distinctive, then hire a car. Cougar, Fox, Shi, little sister, I'd like you to come with me; I may not survive this meeting and someone has to take what information I glean back to the team."

"What?" Dowel asked. "Why wouldn't you survive trying to talk to a dead woman?"

"The dead woman in question probably hates me and very likely wants to kill me, because I presented her head to the Matriarch on a silver plate fourteen years ago." Tiger snapped, and with that she climbed into _Hera's Vengeance_ and started rooting around in the luggage.

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Nabiki easily found Xian Pu. The purple-haired girl was lounging on a chair she'd dragged out onto the veranda to beside Rei's chair, her guitar in her hands, accompanying herself as she sang at the top of her lungs:

(Lyrics deleted)

Nabiki smiled and leant against the wall beside the French windows; Xian Pu waggled her eyebrows and kept going.

(More lyrics deleted)

Xian Pu noodled around with the end of the song, then let it fade into silence and emitted a satisfied sigh as she put her guitar down.

"Top o' the morning to yeh, Nabiki." She said.

Nabiki changed languages to English with the mental equivalent of a gearshift. "Morning, Shampoo. I just had a, uh, _intriguing_ conversation with Ranma."

"Oh aye? What'd the big man have teh say?"

Nabiki pursed her lips, thought for a moment, and relayed the gist of her conversation with Ranma, conscientiously leaving out the bits where she'd snarled at him – she didn't think that would go down very well.

Xian Pu didn't reply for a few moments; she went a bit pink round the gills.

"He can be terribly blunt when he wants to." She finally said.

"I take it he wasn't having me on?" Nabiki checked.

Xian Pu firmly shook her head. "Oh no, yer man rarely does." She thought for a few moments, then shook her head again. "Let's just say, yer hot an' Ah'm interested, if yeh get ma drift." She let out a humourless chuckle. "If yer no up fer experimenting, well, Ah'm disappointed, but that's life… God, ma great-grandmother'd kill me if she heard me carryin' on lak this."

"Let's go continue this conversation somewhere with a bit of privacy." Nabiki said, switching back to Japanese. Xian Pu nodded, patted Rei's cheek, stowed her guitar, and followed Nabiki back into the house, idly humming 'Whiskey in the Jar' as she went.

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The Isuzu Trooper roared across the gravel, kicking up hails of chippings as it slewed round the many bends. Tiger had been able to secure the hire of the vehicle from one of her myriad contacts, no questions asked; the four-wheel-drive was officially in for maintenance. Tiger was not behind the helm; that task fell to Cougar, who was having a hell of a lot of fun. An Isuzu Trooper sure kicked the ass of any decrepit old Chinese or Soviet army truck.

The road here was unsealed, and obviously didn't see much traffic; in the last twenty miles they'd seen two vehicles, a bus and a mail van.

"Take the next right." Tiger instructed. Cougar nodded, and took the junction like a rally driver; the big four-wheel-drive kicked up a back wheel as it slewed across the gravel, and then Cougar was throwing a downshift as the SUV hit the steepest hill yet.

At the top of that hill was a hamlet at the bottom of a long flight of stone steps going up into the mountains. There were twenty or so houses, a bus shelter, a tiny shop, and a pub; that and a carpark by the bottom of those steps, and it was into this carpark that Tiger directed Cougar.

Here they left the vehicle; the five Amazons headed up those steps, Shi noisily counting them as they went. A dirt track wound up the mountainside among the trees to the left of the steps, but it was closed off by a locked gate. The others spent the climb getting more and more dubious; they could all feel several immense ki auras up at the top of those steps.

"… two thousand six hundred and twelve." Shi said as they arrived at the top. There was another house way the hell up here, with three assorted vehicles parked outside, all looking very new aside from a liberal coating of mud sprayed up from the wheels; a Dodge RAM double-cab pickup, a heavily modified Harley-Davidson motorcycle, and a Mitsubishi Shogun with the blue beacons on the back of the rear view mirror that indicate an unmarked police car. To the left was a mountain lake with a small island bearing a single immense tree in the centre; there was a shrine further up the mountainside.

Tiger turned and walked slowly towards the house, her expression pensive. The other Amazons warily followed her; most of them were wishing she'd let them take more than just their sidearms.

The massive half-Musk woman knocked at the door; it was answered by a very handsome but unremarkable-looking Japanese teenager with his hair in a scruffy ponytail; he was dressed in a short-sleeved white shirt and denim jeans. However, the feel of him was anything other than unremarkable; he was the source of one of those massive auras the five Amazons were feeling.

"Woah." He said on seeing the tawny-haired giantess who was stood there looking like a small boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "Uh, hi, I'm Tenchi."

"I am Tiger." Tiger said. "I am looking for one Megumi Masaki, whom I believe makes her residence here."

"Huh? Oh, you mean grandma? Sure, I think she's up at the shrine." Tenchi said, wondering what the weird vibe he was getting off this lot was.

"Thankyou." Tiger said, and turned towards the flight of steps that led to the shrine further up the mountain; the others followed her, Shi resuming counting as they began the climb.

"Two thousand six hundred _thirteen_, two thousand six hundred _fourteen_, two thousand six hundred _fifteen_…"

Tenchi frowned as he watched them go, then wandered back into the house, rapidly finding his two favourite people in all the universe.

"Ryoko, Ayeka, I think we might want to head up to the shrine. There's five very weird people looking for grandma."

"You mean weird by our standards, right?" Ryoko Hakubi checked. Tenchi nodded, and the ex-space-pirate immediately looked worried, as did her best friend and favourite enemy, Princess Ayeka Juraia.

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Ranma bemusedly followed Akane down into the basement. Like most basements, it was stacked nearly to ceiling height with generic stuff; boxes of books, cast-off furniture, and varied segments of unidentified machinery, including what looked to Ranma's eye to be an entire Cadillac separated out into it's component parts and stacked in boxes.

Grinning at his expression, Akane led him round the back of a pile of junk. Here she stopped with her hand resting against some exposed plumbing.

"Nerima district was hardly touched during the bombing of Tokyo in the Second World War." She remarked. "This house, for example, is six centuries old; this whole street survived first the Kanto quake then the fire-bombing completely unscathed. You may be wondering what a big basement like this is doing on a six hundred year old Japanese house."

"Th' thought had crossed me mind." Ranma admitted.

"That's simple." Akane said. "This was put in during the war. They jacked the whole house up and excavated this basement underneath it, then lowered the house into place and bolted it to the new footings. The electricity and phone lines were put in at the same time, and the same goes for the more modern plumbing."

"What for?" Ranma grunted.

Akane smirked and sharply tugged the pipe upwards; it slid a foot into the ceiling and something clicked. With a hiss of hydraulics, a whole section of the wall lowered itself into the floor, revealing a low archway cut into the wall, leading to a set of concrete stairs headed downwards; there was the kanji for the gates of Hell imprinted in the concrete above the steps.

"What th'…" Ranma muttered.

"There's an old wartime bunker complex under Tokyo." Akane said. "It was supposed to be the last place of retreat in case the Americans invaded Japan. It connects to hundreds of buildings all across Tokyo; there are even underwater entrances down on the waterfront, I think some of them used to be sub pens. At least half of it is blocked off one way or another. The rest… well, let's just say I've taken over everything I've got access to."

She flicked the lightswitch just inside the door; a row of bulbs suspended every twenty feet along the ceiling of the stairway flickered fitfully into life.

"Down here is the most private place in Tokyo." She concluded, showing Ranma in; he had to stoop to fit.

Ranma estimated the steps to go down about four hundred feet, doglegging eight times on the way; at each dogleg there was a concrete pillbox with a firing port for a machine gun, arranged in such a way one would have to pass through a solid stream of gunfire to enter the pillbox, and one would have to enter the pillbox to get further down the stairs. At the first pillbox there was also a passage leading back under the house; Ranma figured it led to the mechanism that lowered the 'door'.

At the bottom was a T-junction with a substantially taller (to the tune of about two stories) and wider tunnel, again with a machine gun emplacement opposite the door, this time for two guns; this time, there was actually a gun mounted in one of the firing ports. To Ranma's eyes, it looked like a slightly modified FN MAG, probably similar to the version used as a general-purpose machine gun by the JSDF. The wider tunnel had light railway tracks in a deep depression along the centre, with raised walkways each side, and cables strung along the ceiling; a flat wagon was sat on the tracks, serving as a makeshift crossing point. It was coupled to a compact electric locomotive.

"Turning left here heads towards the police station, then further into Tokyo – this line can take you right to the Forbidden Palace." Akane said. "The stairs up to the cop shop are blocked off with a steel gate; it was locked, but I took the padlock off with an angle-grinder and swapped in one of my own. Same goes for the access from the Palace dungeons. Heading right takes you to what I call the hub; I think it was the centre of the whole complex, it's where the ammunition magazines, generators, storage, barracks, train-sheds and so on are. From the look of it, it was concealed and abandoned in place just before the occupation, though all of the weapons and ammunition were removed at some point." She spun round and walked backwards onto the flat wagon, spreading her arms. "Welcome to my empire."

Ranma cocked an eyebrow, taking heed of the way Akane was transforming as she headed deeper into the bowels of the city; he could easily see that the Akane he knew was a pale shadow of her true self. Down here, she ruled all she surveyed; this place was her home, much more so than the old house in the big city. Among the utilitarian concrete and rusting steel, she was coming to life with every step she took.

She slipped into the pillbox and seated herself in the gunner's position. Again, Ranma had to duck to fit through the doorway; he chuckled as he realised what the long-ago planners of this place had been doing. The doors were proportioned so an average-height Japanese soldier could run flat-out through them without any fear of banging his head, but an average American soldier would have to duck to avoid smacking himself in the tin hat with a metre-thick slab of reinforced concrete. Everything had been meticulously planned out to give every advantage to the defenders.

"Helluva place, Akane." He said.

Akane grinned, resting a hand on the back of the machine gun.

"Isn't it just? From how over-engineered it is, I think it could survive another Kanto quake. I checked everywhere I could, and there's no mention of it in any historic documents I can get a hold of; it's amazing to think all this was constructed in secret then quietly swept under the carpet when the Americans came. It took me a lot of work to get everything working again, but fortunately the drainage is operated by hydraulic rams so it didn't get a chance to flood. I hooked the power grid up to the new tokomak reactor at school; that thing produces so much juice nobody'll notice what little drain I put on it, and it can easily supply the traction power for the trains. Pity all the weapons and ammo had been stripped out... I've got no idea how far this place goes – there's several tunnels that have been blocked off by something a bit more substantial than a metal gate and I haven't got anything that can get through that much solid concrete; the whole of Tomobiki district is blocked off, and the same goes for Areoka Harbour City."

"Don't anyone else know about this?" Ranma asked.

"Daddy does, he and his mates used it as a hideout during the occupation. My whole gang knows about it, and so does the spelunking club at school, but they know down here is goth turf so they stay the hell away from the areas I use. Apart from that, and I guess the Imperial Guards, no. Your folks probably know; from what Nabiki could find, your dad was involved in the resistance with Daddy during the occupation."

"Huh. So, what'd ya wanna talk about?" Ranma asked, slouching down in the corner of the pillbox.

"About Nabiki, and Shampoo, and the minefield you're stepping in." Akane said. Ranma cocked his head and didn't say anything.

"Out of all of us, Nabiki was affected the most when Momma was murdered." Akane continued, staring into space. "At least, that was what I thought for the longest time. Kasumi just finished switching off, and it didn't have any effect on me, I'm just the same as I would be if Momma was still alive, but Nabiki… I've never seen anyone else go so cold so fast. It was like she switched her emotions off overnight and turned into this robotic extortion machine. Then three years ago I found out the truth the night Nabiki finally had the breakdown she'd been staving off since she was seven."

"What happened?" Ranma asked.

Akane sighed.

"I'm telling you this in the strictest confidence." She said. "It doesn't leave this pillbox, understand? Not even your sister or Shampoo hear about it, because if it got out it'd probably make Nabiki kill herself."

Ranma nodded. "I read you."

Akane sighed again and shut her eyes.

"What happened was when that bastard broke into the house and killed Momma, Daddy told Nabiki to run and hide when he heard the first gunshot. Nabiki ran out the back of the house, and didn't stop running until she was halfway across Tokyo. She hid in some bushes in a park, she was there for two nights before the cops found her, and during that time a tramp raped her. She lost the ability to really trust people that night; it took me seven years to get her to open up to me. She _almost_ trusts me."

"Almost?" Ranma asked.

"Almost." Akane confirmed, then grimaced. "There's been something else happened to her since then, but I've never been able to get her to tell me about it; she goes cold and quiet and politely asks me to leave whenever I try." She sighed again. "I'm worried, Ranma. After Momma died to protect me, I swore I'd never let anything hurt my family again… and something's hurting my sister and I can't do anything about it because she won't tell me what it is."

"I'll see what I can find out." Ranma said.

"No offence, Ranma, but she's unlikely to open up to you for _years_." Akane said. "I'm the only person she's let get close to her in the last decade."

Ranma nodded. "Look at it this way, Akane. As long as there's one good man still breathing, the bastards haven't won yet. It only takes one person to change the world; every time you do the right thing, you've already made the world a better place, even if it's just by a fraction. I'm going to prove to your sister that there's still decent human beings left in this world if it's the last thing I do."

"Good luck." Akane said. "You're going to need it…"

She lapsed into silence, looking out over the rails and into the indeterminable distance, but Ranma knew better than to think she was seeing the concrete; her eyes were staring ten years into the past, to a terrible blood-soaked day and the roar of gunfire as her world exploded around her, and he suddenly knew how the murder of her mother had affected Akane. On that horrific day in 1988, her world had become a live-fire warzone. Ranma knew that haunted, hunted look she had in her eyes; he knew it all too well. He'd seen it far too many times before in the eyes of far too many good people, and he knew he'd see it again, and he knew he'd never forget it and never mistake it for anything else, and he had a nasty suspicion that sooner or later he'd see that look in the eyes of his reflection whenever he looked at a mirror.

It was the thousand-yard stare.

_I'm going to prove it to you too, Akane,_ He thought.

_Even if it's the last thing I do…_

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"I thought this broad was supposed to be dead." Cougar remarked. She was starting to get annoyed with all the steps – weren't trucks there to avoid this sort of crap?

"…. Two thousand nine hundred fifty, two thousand nine hundred fifty-one," Shi puffed.

"_Supposed_ would be the operative here." Tiger remarked. "It's amazing what technology can do, especially the more… _esoteric_, shall we say, technology."

"Okay, so if you cut this broad's head off, how can she be up there and apparently not dead from the way that kid reacted?" Fox asked.

"Easy. I never cut her head off." Tiger said. "Nor did I shoot her, or stab her, or strangulate her, or anything like that. Yet, if you ask the Matriarch, I did a fine job of killing her. Put two and two together."

"_You_ lied? To _the Matriarch_?" Cougar spluttered, barely able to believe her ears. Everyone knew how loyal Tiger was.

"Bingo." Tiger spat. "There are certain kills that are too much. Likewise, there are certain reasons for execution that are too much. Matriarch Kou Loun is nothing but a petty-minded bully."

The other four were stunned into silence by this statement; they said no more as they followed Tiger the rest of the way up.

"Three thousand and ten." Shi said as they arrived at the top. "Wow."

Then a woman attacked Tiger. She didn't give a warning, she didn't ask any questions; she just launched a snap kick capable of shattering concrete at the big woman's skull.

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Xian Pu thoughtfully considered Nabiki through half-lidded eyes.

These Japanese people could make things so bloody _complicated_. If you asked Xian Pu, they were a mess of nonsensical hang-ups and neuroses, and most of them needed a good shagging before they bust a blood vessel or something.

"I want to know the legal ramifications of my being involved with Ranma." Nabiki said. Thankfully, she'd switched back to English; Xian Pu was perfectly aware her fractured Japanese made her sound like the elevator didn't go all the way to the top, and she hated it.

She snorted.

"Dearie, Ah'm already breakin' at least six laws just by doing what Ah've already done." She said. "Genma said to be sure ma kin wouldn't dare to touch me on yer father's land, but then we're already at war with one government – what's another? Believe yeh me, there'll be trouble before this is done."

"That isn't reassuring." Nabiki stated.

"Well that's a good thing then, m'dearie." Xian Pu said. "It wasn't meant to be; sometimes the bold-faced truth is the best, I want yeh to know where yeh stand, for Ah can't abide going into this as any but equal partners. To be sure ma great-grandmother's going to come calling some day, and when she does there'll be trouble, and it's ma head it'll be on. But Ah trust ma man, and Ah trust his father; to be sure they're fine men." She smiled grimly. "It's simple, m'dearie. Sometimes there's only one thing yeh can do to keep yer body and yer soul together, and that's to get **out** of there. That's what Ah did when Ah ran away fra Joketsuzo with Ranma. Sometimes life drives a girl too far; and that's when it's time to take the last chance yeh have. Trust me on this, m'dearie. Ah'm talking from hard-won experience." She sighed and shook her head. "Ah'm sorry Ah brought all this doon on yeh, Ah really am… but Ah had no choice at all." She sighed again. "There'd be no end to the sufferin' unless someone took a stand – an' today that someone's me."

"I'd have to be crazy to get involved." Nabiki said.

Xian Pu nodded.

"Aye, that yeh would." she said. "But Ah'll tell yeh the honest truth, m'dearie. Yer already involved, just because Ah'm under yer roof. Yer no warrior; Ah can see that just to look at yeh, but yer no daft, yeh have a good head on yer shoulders and to be sure yeh know how to use it. So Ah'll tell yeh something about the part of the Amazon ways Ah agree with."

"Go ahead." Nabiki said.

Xian Pu smiled and sat back.

"Ah'm a blooded warrior." She said. "Ah won the yearly Youth Tournament the last three years without a shadow o' a doubt. Would yeh like to know what that means? That means Ah beat every woman in Joketsuzo under the age of twenty-five in single combat, over the course of one full day, without a rest break. Ah have killed ten men in battle, three of 'em in single combat. Now, yer no fighter. Yer a thinker. That's all for the good, misguided missiles like maself need someone to tell them who to shoot, but it does mean that if yeh wed our man Ranma, to Amazons eyes Ah'll be the senior wife… and it is the duty of the senior wife to protect all of her spouses, no matter what the cost may be. It's normally done as a way to aid the survival of a warrior who's been crippled in battle, but every rule has it's exceptions." She leant forwards and looked Nabiki straight in the eye. "It's the most sacred trust one woman can have fer another, and to be sure Ah have _never_ betrayed any who trust me – and Ah never will. Agree to this, and the only way they'll get to yeh is if Ah've spent my last drop o' blood fighting for yeh first."

Nabiki considered Xian Pu for a long moment. She didn't have much idea how to go about dealing with barbarian warriors, and she was scared shitless she'd get hurt again, but her instincts were telling her to trust this tough half-Irish guerrilla – and Nabiki's instincts rarely let her down.

"Well," she said. "It's a good thing I'm crazy, isn't it?"

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It was an interesting spectacle.

Tiger's attacker was a short, slightly stocky woman with the broad shoulders and well-defined muscles the Amazons were used to seeing. However, she was dressed in a traditional Japanese shrine maiden's outfit, and her hair was black, which looked slightly startling as combined with her pale skin. She was using a mix of Amazon Wu Shu and some form of kenjutsu none of the other Amazons could identify, and it was very obvious she was fighting to kill.

Tiger, on the other hand, was dodging wildly and not launching a single blow.

Cougar glanced at Wu Chii, who nodded.

All four went for their sidearms. In the cases of Wu Chii and Shi, these were Type 54's; the Chinese copy of the Tokarev. In the case of Fox, this was a Makarov as the kick of a Tokarev was a bit much for her tiny musculature.

As for Cougar, hers was a completely unique three-shot revolver constructed specially for her by Li Koharn, one of the Amazon weaponsmiths. It fired custom-made rounds created by cutting down a 12.7mm heavy machine gun cartridge, and it's kick could break bones. She regularly got cracked wrists using it, but then it could kill someone hiding behind a pile of engine blocks. The majority of elephant guns (and anti-labor rifles) didn't pack as much of a punch as Cougar's revolver.

"HOLD IT!" Wu Chii roared, in her best 'command voice'. The stranger disengaged and fell back into a tense defensive stance while Tiger put some significant distance between the two of them.

"I thought we'd be getting bloody information, Tiger." Wu Chii snapped.

"Wow." Tiger said, rubbing her jaw where she'd taken a kick at the beginning of the fight. "That one could've shattered concrete. You've got stronger."

The woman sighed and relaxed out of her stance, glancing at Cougar's gun.

"So this is it, then?" she asked. Much to the Amazons surprise, she had a faint but still detectable Joketsuzoku accent. "Took you long enough. Let's get it over with."

"I am not here to kill you, Megumi." Tiger stated. "Put your bloody weapons away, you lot. Don't you know pulling a gun on someone can be taken as an unfriendly gesture?"

"Kou Loun made her expectations very clear, and you licked it up!" Megumi snarled, going back into a defensive stance and glancing at Cougar's gun again. The varied Amazon's hadn't actually holstered their weapons, but were no longer aiming at Megumi.

"What the Hell is going on?" Tenchi growled, arriving at the top of the stairs flanked by a pair of very memorable women. Three out of five Amazons turned their attention to him and his companions.

"Back off, boy." Cougar stated. "This is Amazon business; it doesn't involve you."

"When it involved my family, it involved me." Tenchi snapped; the hilt-shaped piece of wood he was holding in his right hand silently extruded a solid-seeming bar of blue light.

"And when it involves Prince Tenchi, I too am involved." The woman on his left stated; her wooden 'hilt' likewise produced a blade composed of light.

"What the princess said." The woman on Tenchi's right agreed; a sword entirely composed of crackling green energy appeared in her hands.

"Mya!" the little cat-rabbit thingy that was sitting on her head agreed, nodding firmly. Tiger muttered something distinctly impolite in the Joketsuzoku dialect of Cantonese; something about a peanut gallery and meddling kids.

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"Oh, there you are."

Ranma raised his eyebrows. He was just back out the bunkers with Akane, who was back to carefully polishing the newly-made slide for Frankengun 12.

And now Nabiki was stood on the threshold of the living room, looking a bit annoyed.

"Where'd you got to?" she asked.

"He was downstairs talking with me." Akane said. Nabiki accepted that with a nod, not taking her attention off Ranma.

"I've decided." She said.

"An' what's yer decision?" Ranma asked.

Nabiki breathed deeply for a few moments; Ranma recognised it as a very basic ki-focusing technique, the sort taught to a first dan in Anything Goes.

"Shampoo convinced me." She said. "I want to give this a try."

The part she'd left unsaid was clear in her eyes;

_Don't disappoint me, Saotome._

**---End Chapter---**

AN –

As per FF.N's ruling, I have removed the lyrics from this chapter; this time around it was Runrig 'Amazing Things'. Posting got delayed a week or so due to a combination of a prereader getting sucked in by a good fic and an author running around post-apocalyptic London blowing up demons; I just recently acquired a copy of Hellgate London and have been playing it rather more than I probably should. The Tube as humanity's last hope is, frankly, a stroke of genius, as is the tentacle pistol. Frying tonight!

A piece of good news; the full unbowdlerised versions of this fic will be up on Studio Asynjor by the time you read this. Before posting this chapter, I sent the source files for the correct versions of each chapter off to Jarreas; FF.N will shortly be becoming secondary on my priorities list. I'll be working out a way of getting email notifications of posts to Studio Asynjor; if necessary I'll do it manually, more news about that when I have it. The differences between the FF.N and Studio Asynjor versions of the fic are primarily the way I've ripped all song lyrics out of this version, but there's also some formatting differences, and I'll gradually be adding in assorted graphics to the Studio Asynjor version. I'll still be posting chapters to FF.N, but they'll inevitably experience a certain level of mutilation courtesy of FF.N's coding and rules, and each time they'll be held back until the relevant chapter is up on Studio Asynjor.

I had a bit less trouble with this chapter; first the sequence of scenes with Ranma, Nabiki, Akane and Xian Pu seemed to flow out, then I decided to pay the Amazons a bit more attention and all of a sudden this chapter had exponentially grown. In the process, several scenes got pushed over the limit and into the next chapter – in fact, the next chapter's Amazon-related bits will mostly have come from that source.

Not having an immediately available source of authentic Chinese names, I am making the Amazon's names up and trying to have them sound vaguely Chinese. Hey, they're from a weird outlaw subculture that doesn't necessarily speak either of the 'normal' variants of Chinese, right? Or at least, that's my excuse, and I'm sticking with it. Hopefully not too many of them will end up with names that mean something stupid like 'Your Earole'.

Wombats are notoriously hard to kill. They're a bit like a pig with the hard turned up to eleven.

A hydraulic ram is a type of pump operated by the pressure of the water flowing through it. They are extremely simple and phenomenally reliable; a hydraulic ram running non-stop for sixty years wouldn't be much of a stretch. My parents once found one in the backwoods down south; it had been abandoned in place for twenty years and was still running full blast.

In the original, Akane's basement was another of those things I could have done much better. The result, as glimpsed in this chapter, was chiefly inspired by a place in New Zealand called Stony Batter, which hosted a WW2 costal defence battery. I've been there, and it was cool but creepy. It's less than twenty miles from Dad's house, and was all but forgotten until the mid 70s; now it's gradually being restored. Currently, there's no lighting; you have to take torches along with you. Almost all the fittings have been stripped out, but the trust's gradually tracking down genuine parts and rebuilding it all. Hell of a place; if you're ever on Waiheke Island, give it a visit; hell, it's worth catching the Gulf Islands Ferry from Auckland for that. In fact, wherever in the world you live, if you get the chance to visit something old, abandoned, military, underground, built in the Forties and made of concrete, give it a go. Sixty-some years ago, guys much like you and I fought and died to save the world in places like those; never forget.

Doghead Out.


	13. Chapter 11

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

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_Torches blazed and sacred chants were praised_

_As they start to cry, hands held to the sky_

_In the night, the fires burning bright_

_The ritual has begun, Satan's work is done_

_666 the number of the beast_

_Sacrifice is going on tonight_

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Cougar dubiously contemplated the woman who was dubiously contemplating her right back. This woman was certainly a memorable individual; she was a slender statuesque beauty with a ferocious mane of ragged sky blue hair, bright yellow eyes, and an indeterminable air of wildness. Her ears were weird – they stuck out several inches to the sides of her head, and were squared-off at the ends. A whiplash-like black tail protruded from her posterior, and she seemed to have several gemstones embedded in the back of her wrist. She was clad in skin-tight denim shorts with a strategically-placed tail hole, combat boots, a slightly scruffy white tank-top, fingerless gloves, and an intricate black choker with a green gemstone at her throat.

However, the part that really got – and held – Cougar's attention was the sword entirely composed of yellow-green energy that this strange woman was holding. Cougar had a nasty feeling that even high-velocity bullets with a calibre of just over .60-inch wouldn't be anything even close to adequate here.

To Cougar's left, Shi was likewise having a staring competition, this time with the other weird-looking woman. This woman was likewise a slender statuesque beauty, but she had long black hair in a set of enormous ponytails, and was dressed in incredibly intricate robes. She was surrounded by several small levitating wooden cylinders, and was holding a blue energy sword that extended from an ornate hilt carved from similar dark wood.

This left Fox unfortunate enough to be trying to stare down the boy, Tenchi. He was still clad in jeans and shirt, but in addition to his energy blade, three planes of some sort of force were hanging around him; whatever they were, they seemed to be some sort of ki lens of unimaginable power.

Cougar was getting an increasingly bad feeling about this. Having once survived a minor disagreement with the Matriarch, she knew what trying to stare down someone who could crush you like a bug felt like – and this time she felt like she was trying to stare down someone capable of crushing the entire goddamn planet like a bug.

She had absolutely no idea just how right she was. The young man was in fact Prince Tenchi Masaki, Crown Prince of the Juraian Empire, among the galaxy's ten deadliest swordsmen. The black-haired woman was Princess Ayeka Juraia, and like all Juraians of Imperial birth, she was not one to be trifled with. The blue-haired woman was Ryoko Hakubi, formerly the subject of the galaxy's highest-ever standing bounty and now reclassified as a natural disaster; she was the only person to ever attack Rokolushu, the homeworld of the Juraian Empire, and get away alive.

And then there was the most dangerous opponent the small group of Amazons were currently facing; the small bunny-like creature that was sat upon Ryoko's head. Although it looked like the unnervingly cute offspring of an illicit liason between a cat and a rabbit, leading to the popular term of 'Cabbit', this creature was in fact the galaxy's most powerful destroyer-class starship; if anyone aside from her creator had known quite how powerful Ry-Oh-Oki was, she would have knocked Ryoko off the bottom of the Omega list, the register of the ten most powerful weapons in known space.

"Put your weapons away at once." Stated a calm controlled voice; Cougar was startled to find herself holstering her vastly overgrown pistol, and the beam blade in Ryoko's hand winked out as the assemblage turned as one to look at the source of the voice.

The voice belonged to a moustachioed gentleman in his later years, dressed in the robes of a Shinto priest. This gentleman had been alerted by Wu Chii's yell a few moments before, and had made great haste towards the source of the yell as he knew a Joketsuzo accent when he heard it yodelled in.

"I hate it when you do that, Yosho." Ryoko remarked.

"Master Masaki." Tiger said, bowing to the newcomer. All the Amazons recognised that bow – it was the very polite one usually directed to a martial arts master one knows could kick one's ass six ways sideways to Sunday without raising a sweat.

"I told you never to return to this place, Tiger." Yosho Masaki stated.

"I remember, Yosho." Tiger growled. "It's not like it was the first time you completely ignored what I was trying to say."

"Perhaps you should leave." The girl who was apparently some sort of princess stated; she had her hand resting on her wooden hilt thing.

"I think not." Tiger snapped, and levelled a steady gaze at Megumi. "Elder Mi Soon believes the Likarian prophecy is about to be fulfilled; the fourth sign recently came to pass."

That got the attention of both Yosho and Megumi.

"Elaborate." The old priest said.

"Xian Pu took her father's surname when her mother died." Tiger said. "Three years ago, she became champion of the youth tournament. A year later, she was named heir to the Matriarch. And now she has fled Joketsuzo with a young man named Ranma Jaku Saotome."

"I see." Yosho muttered.

"… this could get interesting." Shi muttered.

"Only three signs remain." Tiger stated.

"The blade-cat lord, the fire and ice, and the awakening of the shadows of the past." Megumi said with a slow nod. "So whose side are you on in all this, Tiger?"

Tiger smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

"The prophecy is quite clear." She said. "If the Amazons are to have a future, these things _must_ come to pass. Unless the prophecy is fulfilled, sixty thousand years of Amazon history will be for naught. I cannot allow that; when I achieved the rank of Enforcer, I swore to preserve the Amazon people – no matter what the cost."

"Ergo you're here to kill me." Megumi said. "Walk away, Tiger. You can't win this one."

"Did you hear a word I just said?" Tiger growled. "All too many Enforcers take that oath to mean preserving Kou Loun's bigotry; I am not one of them. That is why, last time we met, I didn't leave until I had your sword and a lock of your hair."

"… which means exactly what?" Yosho asked.

Tiger snorted. "It means I went to Strange Street, had a clone grown from the sample of your wife's DNA contained within the sample of her hair, then cut the clone's head off with the sword I stole and presented both head and sword to Kou Loun, claiming I'd killed your wife." She turned back to Megumi. "You have been dead for fourteen years, that's how I made Enforcer. Since then, I've 'executed' a hundred and twelve Amazon renegades in much the same way… and every last one of them is alive and well."

"Holy _shit_." Cougar spluttered. "I _knew_ I recognised that girl we hired the car from! That was Su Gar!"

Tiger nodded.

"And all the rest of your 'contacts'?" Fox checked.

"Most of them." Tiger said with another nod.

"So what information do you need?" Megumi asked.

"I need your insight into the inner politics of Clan Saotome." Tiger said. "I am given to understand that this Ranma Jaku Saotome is associated with the Saotome high families, and I need to know where he has taken Xian Pu. But first, there is some personal business to attend to." She turned to Wu Chii, and motioned towards Megumi with her hands in the traditional Joketsuzoku gesture of introduction of kin.

"Little sister, I would like you to meet our mother."

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**Disclaimer: The author is prone to beard.**

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**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**Preread by KuroNeko**

**Hosted by Studio Asynjor**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

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**Chapter 11: This Mean Old Town**

**(In which a spark becomes a flame)**

Kodachi Kuno was about to head out for a few hours. Her intent was to pay the Tendo home a little visit, just in case the subject of her current fixation was currently around; a certain Ranma J. Saotome.

Just when she was laboriously lacing up her shoes, the unexpected happened; a voice speaking from the outer foyer:

"That's not a very friendly gesture."

Kodachi curiously looked towards the entryway.

There was a blonde woman stood there, foursquare in the doorway of the Kuno mansion. She was tall and slender, with aristocratic features and a taut form; she was clad in a grey bomber jacket with what looked like a human scalp attached to the left shoulder, grey fatigue trousers, combat gloves, and fingerless shooter's mitts; there was a slim leather choker around her throat, and her face bore less expression than a lump of rock. The jacket was open to halfway down the front revealing that she apparently didn't believe in underwear. She was stood there with her hands tensed up like a gunslinger about to draw, despite the fact there was no sign of any guns on her person.

A white-haired man Kodachi didn't know stepped out of absolutely nowhere in the region of the coat rack. He was dressed in blue cargo trousers, a matching short-sleeved shirt, a tactical vest, combat boots, a ninja's facemask, a headband pulled down over his left eye, and fingerless gloves, and he had a massive revolver in his hand, it's barrel levelled at the blonde's forehead.

"The master does not appreciate concealed weapons." He stated. "Lose 'em."

The blonde cocked an eyebrow.

"Concealed weapons?" she asked, raising her right arm so her hand was facing him; she tugged her sleeve open revealing an empty space, then calmly whipped a full-sized sniper rifle out of up her sleeve. Despite it being at least a foot longer than her arm. "There's not enough space in this room to fit all the concealed weapons I'm carrying, Kakashi."

"What is going on?" Kodachi asked. The blonde turned her attention to the sole Kuno daughter, slinging her rifle across her shoulder as she turned.

"I am Wolf." She said. "You are Kodachi Kuno, correct?"

Kodachi nodded. Kakashi stifled a sigh.

"Excellent. I have a message for you." Wolf stated, idly tucking the gun into the front of her jacket and causing the weapon to completely disappear. Kodachi blinked; the blonde woman was busty, but stuffing four feet of sniper rifle down her cleavage? This was getting ridiculous.

Wolf idly tugged a scroll out of her jacket, and presented it to Kodachi with a flourish, then turned and stalked out, glancing over her shoulder as she left.

"Mother said to tell you to remember the events of fifteen years ago, Kakashi. She is calling that debt."

And then she was gone.

"I see." Kakashi said, his voice soft. "My lady, once you have read that missive, we had better speak to Master Sasuke… this could get interesting"

The way he said, 'Interesting', didn't make it sound like a good thing.

"There is one problem with that." Kodachi said.

"Oh?"

"I don't know what language this is in, and I cannot read it."

"May I see?" Kakashi asked; Kodachi handed him the scroll.

He considered it for a long moment.

"I see." He said. "Yes, it's Sasuke we need now."

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Nabiki Tendo did not like people.

People, to her experience, were scum. They'd say one thing, do the other, and grab any chance to stab you in the back. Nabiki's world was dog-eat-dog; there was no time for morals in the never-ending struggle for survival.

It was survival of the fittest, evolution at a hundred thousand bits per second, and Nabiki was the mean lean selective breeding machine. She knew for damn sure she'd caused six suicides. There were people on death row she'd put there. Jitsuyama hadn't been the only cop who looked to Nabiki for advice; many were the cases that had been cracked courtesy of Nabiki's eye for detail and ability to put two and two together. A lot of cops would be rather upset if anything happened to Nabiki Tendo; a lot of Yakuza would be rather relieved.

Many people thought Nabiki was a gambler playing with fire; she was indeed playing with fire, but it's not a gamble when you're rigging the odds and placing bets on events you know will take place.

And now she was facing a game where all the dice were loaded against her. The other side had the cards marked, and, finally, she was facing something she couldn't take on alone.

She hated that feeling, and that feeling was why she was now sat in her room with Ranma, Akane, Micheru and Xian Pu, about to show them some of her closely-guarded research.

"Alright. Here's what I've found out so far." She said. "First off, all of our records are fragmented. For you two and Ryoga that makes some sort of sense since you've been more-or-less nomadic for most of your lives. But your records are a lot more complete than ours. Even Ryoga's records; he's actually _got_ some. Me and my sisters have no records, no paper trail at all – the only copies of our education records are the hardcopy at Furinkan, and our only medical records are in Doctor Tofu's safe. Our parents are just as enigmatic – Nodoka's records are classified, Genma's are virtually nonexistent, same goes for Daddy, and all there is of Momma's records is a few scattered fragments, mainly the police reports from when she was killed."

"Weird." Ranma muttered.

"When Jitsuyama looked into it for me, he was warned off by Public Security, I never found out what section." Nabiki continued. "Kobayashi gave me a list of five names, and I received several hints from him via time-delayed email after he was murdered, though I'm stuffed if I know how he got my address. Jitsuyama tried to get in touch with the first name on Kobayashi's list, someone called Kalim Sanavasku, and whatever happened got Jitsuyama dead."

"I wouldn't mind a look at that list." Micheru remarked.

"I haven't been able to find a huge amount, and all of what I've found points to us being hereditary members of one or other of the so-called Clans." Nabiki carried on, not deigning to answer that one. "It seems Daddy inherited the real estate round here from someone calling himself Kami Asinara, and Genma dropped me a hint concerning someone called Akira Saotome; I've looked into both names. The name 'Kami Asinara' comes up time and time again as far back as records go, always in reference to the area that's now Nerima district. The name 'Akira Saotome' comes up just as frequently, mostly in folklore from the far north. They're like the fucking _bogeyman_ or something."

"Xian Pu know them names." Xian Pu said. "When Xian Pu little, hear Elders argue. Elder Lo Shin say, Lord Akira person have Lord Kami person killed, maybe he have Amazons killed next. Elder Po Da say Elder Lo Shin stupid old bat who need get stick out ass."

"Fair enough." Nabiki said, filing that one away for later perusal. "Anyway, when I was going through the government's records concerning Nerima, I was actually trying to find information on this Kami Asinara person, I found something_majorly_ freaky. It seems that, since 1947, Nerima hasn't legally been a part of Japan. Technically speaking, it's an independent country, it's got it's own laws and a representative on the UN and everything. There just isn't any border controls and for some reason the truth's buried pretty deeply; not even most of the cops know about it… it's no wonder the Advanced Police went so berserk about Kobayashi getting killed – it was an international incident. And no wonder we don't have any records in the Japanese system – we're not Japanese citizens."

"This," Akane said, "Is so, so, fucked up."

"I say we hit Dad in the face with all that and see what falls out." Micheru suggested, glancing at her brother.

"I'm wiv that." Ranma said. "Akane, Nabiki, why don't ya guys see what yer old man has ta say about all this?"

"I've got something else that needs to be done." Nabiki said, standing up.

"Need any backup?" Ranma asked.

Nabiki shook her head. "No; I've got it covered. I'll see you all later."

She logged her computer out, leaving it sat on the password screen, pocketed a couple pieces of paper and a notebook, and headed downstairs, grabbing a jacket as she went.

Ranma glanced sideon at Xian Pu.

"Do me a favour an' shadow her? Don't get seen." He said. The Amazon nodded and took off via the Saotomes room, collecting her sword, her Zastava and a couple of magazines, before heading for the rooftops.

"So why've you got your girlfriend tailing my sister?" Akane asked.

"Coz I got a bad feelin' about this." Ranma said. "Somethin' tells me Nabiki's about ta do somethin' risky, an' I want someone there ta bail her out if it goes wrong. Put it this way; a cop got blown away due ta this stuff last night. An' believe ya me, an Amazon warrior who's decided Nabiki's her wife can do a helluva lot a' bailin' out."

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Sasuke cocked an eyebrow as he surveyed what had just come walking into the servant's quarters of the Kuno manor. It was fairly high up the list of things he hadn't been expecting.

There was nothing unusual about seeing Kakashi accompanying Kodachi, but the white-haired ninja doing so openly was unusual to say the least.

"I'm surprised you chose now to reveal yourself to the mistress, Kakashi."

Kakashi shook his head. "It was ultimately unnecessary, but I believe it was for the best. The mistress just had a rather unusual visitor."

"Somehow connected to the Saotomes?" Sasuke asked.

"No, yet at the same time I believe so." Kakashi said, and turned to Kodachi, who handed the scroll to Sasuke.

"I cannot read this, and Kakashi refuses to." She said.

Sasuke cocked an eyebrow again, and critically examined the scroll.

"Perhaps because he had about as much luck reading it as you did; I understand the Seletic language is a little outside his area of expertise."

Kakashi looked faintly embarrassed.

"I shall translate." Sasuke said, and began to read out loud:

"Salutations, Lady Kuno.

Know that I who write this am Mi Soon, leader of those Amazons who look towards the future and fear for our people; know also that fifteen years ago I did the Kuno family a great service, of which the chief among your servants will hopefully tell you.

And now that debt must be paid.

Wolf represents my will in Japan; I trust her absolutely, and she will reveal to you and your servants the nature of the assistance I desire. She will soon to be found in the area of the Tendo dojo. I believe we shall also have the aid of Clan Saotome and Clan Asinara in all this; the Heir of Clan Joketsuzoku is wed to the Heir of Clan Saotome, and she is loyal to the Reformist cause; also, an outstanding deal of blood union is extant between Clans Saotome and Asinara.

Tell Kakashi that the time of which I spoke fifteen years ago has arrived. The time has come to take action before my daughter's madness consumes us all, and it is my wish that the Kuno line, and more importantly those incredible men and women who choose to serve you, should stand beside the Reformist Joketsuzoku in these difficult times.

Blessed be,

Elder Mi Soon of Clan Joketsuzoku."

"I see." Sasuke concluded, lowering the scroll. "Kakashi, gather your team. I believe it may be provident for you to openly accompany the mistress to visit the lair of the beast, yet perhaps it would be for the best if you had a little clandestine support. Mistress, if you would accompany me? There is much to discuss."

"Such as what the devil is really going on." Kodachi said with a nod.

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"I haven't totally been in the loop for a while, if you get my drift." Megumi said, opening her laptop. They'd wasted the last couple of hours in a suitably emotional introduction sequence, and now it was time to stop messing around and get down to business.

She booted up her email client, and started going through her inbox. "But I still maintain several contacts in Tokyo… you're certain she went there?"

Cougar nodded. "Sure as we can be. I was the last one saw Xian Pu when she was leaving, and this Ranma guy's father said something about 'Next stop Tokyo' to which this Ranma guy muttered something about 'this could get awkward goddamnit' at which point his father told him 'shut yer cake-hole'."

"Riiiiight…" Ryoko remarked. "Sounds like a real _charming_ family."

"I thought they'd be exactly your kind of people." Ayeka said, earning herself an idle offensive gesture from the former pirate.

"Ayeka? Ryoko? Could we please _not_ have any arguments for a while?" Tenchi requested. "Washu just got done repairing the craters from the last one."

"Hey, where _is_ Mom anyway?" Ryoko asked.

"She said Scary Mary managed to get her Tardis to break down again." Tenchi told her. "Apparently it's stuck as a Pac-Man machine and won't go to any day that isn't a Tuesday or Easter."

"I'm unsure exactly what a Pac-Man machine is, but it's probably an improvement on a condom dispenser." Ayeka muttered.

"Here we go." Megumi interrupted, having opened a fifth email. "Latest rumours from Tokyo. Apparently, several key members of the Saotome line and, quote, 'An exotic purple-haired beauty,' unquote, have been seen in and around Nerima, specifically in the region of the Tendo dojo."

"Weird." Tiger said. "I thought the Saotomes and the Asinaras were at war?"

Megumi nodded distractedly. "That's what I thought too. Must be more going on than we knew."

"Didn't you know?" Ayeka asked. "Clans Saotome and Asinara came to a ceasefire agreement a little over sixteen standard years ago. There have been a few border incidents since, and both still maintain sizeable fleets, but the fighting seems to largely be over."

"Way I hear it, it was like Kami Asinara's pet war." Ryoko remarked. "It only started because his piss-artist heir ran into Battlemaster Wukong in a Dachaigh Nuadh watering hole, didn't like what Wukong had to say, and discovered Wukong wears a blaster-proof vest the hard way. So of course Wukong tore the idiot's head off, waddya expect? So Kami takes grave offence, Akira Saotome decides to stick up for his battlemaster, next thing you know they're going at it like half an army of drunken Klingons on Frenzon. But whatever, when that Morley guy iced Kami you could tell the war was pretty much over, anyone else would've regarded what Son Wukong did as a favour, from what I hear this Soun Tendo kid's actually got his head screwed on halfway right and the previous guy Kami had pipped as heir was a terminal bastard. Way I hear it, he was into the sort of sex the girl doesn't survive, and liked 'em way too young; strikes me Wukong did the galaxy a favour when he took that fuck out the gene-pool."

"That sounds a little odd coming from a pirate who used to intermittently destroy planets." Ayeka muttered.

Ryoko whirled round and glared at her.

"Listen up, and listen real good,_princess_." She growled. "I looted and pillaged, I cut a bloody swathe across half the goddamn galaxy – but I _never took anyone's freedom away._ I _never_ treated people like fucking _toys_. I _never__dealt slaves_. And I _never_ blew a planet unless _they fucking took the fight to that level_. As a pirate, blowing a planet is bad for business – blow a planet and they'll never put another freighter into space. It's a last resort, you only go to that level when they start blowing planets it's rumoured you're on."

Yosho nodded gravely.

"Father had three systems starkillered in an attempt to get Ryoko." He said. "I understand that was why she attacked Rokolushu."

"If people want me _that_ bad, they get me _right between their goddamned eyes_." Ryoko agreed with a sharp nod.

Ayeka looked a bit embarrassed.

"… I was out of order." She said. "I apologise; my remark was unwarranted."

Ryoko stared at her for a long moment, then nodded.

"S'okay, princess." She said. "Apology accepted."

Tenchi made a quiet relieved noise; dodged _that_ bullet.

As for the Amazons, they took careful note of that byplay. It said a lot about the Masaki family, and made three out of the five wonder exactly what the hell was _with_ reality today.

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"Do you believe in monsters, Mistress Kodachi?" Sasuke asked.

"I presume you do not mean tyrants or psychopaths?" Kodachi checked. Sasuke simply nodded, so she thought about that for a few moments.

"Not really, no." she finally admitted.

"You should." Sasuke stated. "The government does what it can to suppress knowledge of such beings, but it is only through the actions of people such as myself that they are able to do so." He turned and gazed out over the city. "Take the young lady who earlier brought you that message. She is human; an emotionally-crippled semi-psychotic, but still entirely human. The woman for whom she is working is most assuredly not human; Elder Mi Soon is in fact a werewolf, and she is several tens of millennia older than human civilisation… I have to wonder exactly why Mi Soon chose the most wanted woman in China as her messenger, but I digress. It is the Clans who rule this world, not the UN, no matter what anyone may tell you. Humans are merely the tenants of a world that belongs to the shapeshifter Clans."

"Where do I come into this?"

Sasuke smiled grimly.

"That is relatively simple." He said. "Firstly, we are dealing with Amazons. They do not hold much respect for the male gender. And secondly, if I may be frank?"

Kodachi nodded impatiently.

"The second reason is that you are the only currently-alive member of the Kuno line who is sane." Sasuke bluntly stated, turning to face her. "Your father was once a good man, one of TAPD's finest officers, a detective renowned for his incisive intelligence and superb judgement; your mother's death destroyed his mind. Your brother is only able to function via his increasingly complex fantasies of a time long gone. Current events require calm and rational response if we are to survive, and I do not believe your father or brother able to act in a calm or rational manner. Do you?"

"… no." Kodachi admitted. Sasuke inclined his head and turned to look back out the window.

"Another beautiful day in the city, yet down here in the darkness… I hate to bring you to this underworld, Mistress Kodachi. Your father's last rational act was to request that I protect you and your brother from the shadow world that lurks beneath the façade of this planet. He did not order it; he asked me as a friend, and how could I refuse a man I loved as a son… but now the fate from which you were saved fifteen years ago has come calling, and honour dictates that you will be drawn into that world."

"What happened fifteen years ago?" Kodachi asked.

"A powerful fox demon, or _Kitsune_, attacked this country, and the Kuno family were it's first target." Sasuke said. "Your three uncles did not survive; nor did your aunt. You, your parents, and your brother, were the only survivors from an extended family of a hundred and fifty-three. The beast known as Kyuubi would have prevailed if not for the actions of a stranger; an elderly lady who's skill at arms, courage in battle and knowledge of mysticism had to be seen to be believed. She was able to seal the demon into a child of my clan in such a way that it could not escape or control his actions… and in the process almost certainly saved the lives and souls of every thinking being in Japan. That elderly lady was in fact Elder Mi Soon of Joketsuzo; we as a people, Japan as a nation, and the Kunos as a family, owe her an immense debt of gratitude… and now that debt has been called."

"So… what's this likely to involve?" Kodachi asked.

Sasuke sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Mi Soon is the leader of a rebellion-in-waiting within the ranks of the Joketsuzoku." He said. "I presume she either desires to take sanctuary with us, to have us give certain of her followers sanctuary… or to have us aid her Reformist Amazons in battle."

"It's the latter." Kakashi stated, once again sincerely startling Kodachi by being within six feet of her without her having realised it. "Fifteen years ago, she and I had a long discussion… about power, about martial arts, about politics… She explained her position, and remarked that someday her people would either be in a position to rise up and overthrow the conservative minority that holds power in Joketsuzo… or she'd be dead and her people would be in a position so bad they'd need every friend they could get. She mentioned a prophecy, but she didn't give me the details and I didn't pry."

"Shall we will work from the assumption that she is dead and we are about to aid a few refugees?" Sasuke asked.

"I think not." Kakashi said. "If their situation was that bad, we'd have had anything between a scattered handful and a couple of thousand Amazons come knocking at the door, not a solitary stone-cold bitch with a note from the old lady herself. She's never indirect when push comes to shove."

"You know her well enough to say that?" Kodachi asked.

Kakashi sighed.

"I know her as well as any man may know his mother-in-law." He said. "I accidentally married her youngest daughter fourteen years ago."

Kodachi gave him a funny look, wondering exactly how one might accidentally marry.

"Which is of course why I chose Kakashi's team to accompany you to your meeting with the Amazons." Sasuke agreed. "He is, after all, one of their own to their eyes. Especially Reformist eyes."

Kakashi chuckled and shook his head.

"Something like that." he said. "I suggest we wait until our sources tell us Wolf and her presumed group have arrived at the Tendo dojo."

And that is what they did.

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"Dad, we gotta talk."

Genma looked up from where he'd been reading an issue of Easy Riders magazine. Well, actually, he'd been admiring the centrefold, but let's leave the images that may provoke well alone.

The Saotome twins were stood one each side of the door into the living room, leaning against the doorframe and giving him pensive looks. Genma knew them well enough to realise that they were worried about something, though he couldn't say what.

"Wazzup?" he asked.

"Nabiki found some stuff that's got us thinking." Micheru said.

"Dad, what's really goin' on?" Ranma asked.

"With what?" Genma asked, dropping his big-dumb-lout persona.

"Nabiki says there aren't any records of your birth." Micheru said. "And she says Mom's entire paper trail is classified. And she says Mr Tendo and his wife have records about as complete as yours. And she says there is absolutely no record of her or either of her sisters ever existing. And she says Nerima isn't legally part of Japan."

Genma nodded. So his scheme had paid off.

"She'll never find my records from before the end of the occupation – I never had any." He said. "Yer mother works for the government at the highest level, and I'm meaning a level higher than the Prime Minister. Soun's a bit older than he looks. His wife was never actually a citizen of any nation on Earth. The Tendo girls are not Japanese citizens, they've never lived in Japan, their education didn't happen in Japan. And right enough, Nerima is an independent nation, of which Soun Tendo is the_entire_ government." He frowned. "Look, kids. There ain't a whole lot I'm allowed to tell you; my boss, an' yes I do have one, said not to tell you the truth without him being there, and he's unavailable right now."

"Waddya mean, unavailable?" Ranma snapped.

Genma thought about that for a long moment, then decided to drop another hint. He was pretty sure Akira would be pissed off – assuming Akira ever found out.

"Look, kids. Don't never tell nobody you heard this from me, or it's my ass, OK?"

Micheru nodded. Ranma hesitated for a moment, then nodded too.

"Ain't nobody hearin' it from me."

"Lord Akira Saotome is currently about twelve thousand light years away." Genma said.

"Dad…" Ranma growled.

"I'm serious, son. There's a lot more goin' on that you think, and there's a lot of lives ridin' on it. This ain't no game; this is for keeps. Son, you change sex every time you get splashed with cold water. Don't tell me you think conventional science knows it all."

"Well, tell us what ya can." Ranma said.

Genma nodded.

"That ain't much." He warned.

"It's somethin'." Ranma said.

Genma nodded again.

"History as ya know it is wrong." He said. "It's accurate back until about three thousand years ago, but earlier'n that it's all over th' place. Our family line can trace it's way back seventy thousand years; that ain't no mistake. If ya can dream it, there's someone out there doin' it. An' son?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"There's a five-litre tub a' wolfsbane sap on my bike. Get Akane ta seal that stuff inta th' tips a' a whole shitload a' hollowpoints. Bit a' beeswax oughtta do th' trick, but check th' mags are gonna feed okay. If th' rumours I've been hearin' are true, we're gonna need all th' firepower we can get… an' we're gonna need it wiv wolfsbane innit."

Ranma considered that for a few moments.

"Dad, are ya talkin' about werewolves?"

Genma nodded. "Can't tell ya any more, son."

Ranma knew that tone of voice. It meant Genma had a very good reason that would eventually become apparent. He'd heard it before.

"Shit." He muttered.

Outside the door, Akane straightened away from the wall with a frown on her face.

This was starting to freak her out.

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As the small group of Amazons proceeded back down the steps from the shrine towards the house, they had company; Tenchi, Ayeka, and Ryoko.

"I guess this means we're like your aunts or something, right?" Wu Chii asked Tenchi, who shook his head.

"Nah. Only by marriage." He said.

"So how's that work?" Cougar queried.

"Because Grandma isn't actually my grandmother." Tenchi said. "I just call her 'grandma' to bug her since she's married to my grandfather. She's his fifth or sixth wife, not really sure which." He sighed. "I don't know why Granddad keeps letting himself fall for chicks from Earth; he's just going to go through the whole watching-them-grow-old-and-die thing _again_."

Tiger cocked an eyebrow.

"Perhaps not this time." She said. "How old do you think Mother is?"

Tenchi paused.

"Well, I'm guessing you're in your late twenties, so she's got to be… well, a lot older than she looks."

"She's eighty-seven." Tiger said. "I am forty-eight. However, we will always remain at the physical age at which we first changed; in Mother's case, that is seventeen, and in mine that is twenty. Shi over there Firsted at twelve. She has been a hyperactive twelve-year-old for a hundred and seventy-two years, and will likely remain a hyperactive twelve-year-old for centuries to come."

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Xian Pu glared at the building Nabiki had gone into. It was a brothel if ever she'd seen one, and it looked to be a real dive of a brothel.

What the Hell was Nabiki doing in a hole like that?

Just as she was thinking that for the fifteenth time, the door flew open with a crash and Nabiki went sprawling into the street. A pair of men of the absolute worst kind came sauntering out; one of them kicked Nabiki in the guts, then hauled her upright by the hair. The other sauntered over to the nearest car and unlocked the boot.

Xian Pu realised what was happening and raised her Zastava, setting the safety lever to single in one smooth motion as her right hand found the pistol grip. A squeeze of the trigger and the rifle bellowed, spitting it's slug at the forehead of the thug who was holding Nabiki; the man staggered back in a shower of blood and brains. The other man ripped a sub-machine gun out of his jacket; Xian Pu blew his brains out before he'd cleared the holster, then leapt, landing in the street.

She dashed over to the thug who'd been unlocking the car's boot, grabbed the keys, dashed over to Nabiki, hauled her into an impromptu fireman's carry, and was just unlocking the car when someone shot her in the back.

She was sent sprawling across the car's bonnet, dropping Nabiki in the process and leaving the car's keys in the lock; she continued the fall to land her the other side of the car, swinging her Zastava round, and was horrified to find the first thug back on his feet despite half his skull being missing.

"You're going to regret that, bitch." he spat. Xian Pu slapped the selector to cyclic and ripped him clean in half with bullets, blowing a window in on the whorehouse and leaving several holes in the door.

A bullet slammed into her right arm, and she was sent flying again; this one wasn't stopped by her Kevlar vest, and it took her a moment's fumbling to get her left hand onto the Zastava's pistol grip.

Before she could fire, a string of bullets slammed into her, another one hitting her right arm and making it the rest of the way limp. Most of them hit her in the chest, slamming her armour against her and breaking a couple of her ribs; she returned fire wildly, causing one of the parked cars to burst into flames, then dragged herself into cover as she struggled to change magazines.

Nabiki screamed; the end of the scream was muffled by the car's boot slamming, and a moment later the engine came to life with a roar. Xian Pu finally got the magazine into place, and managed to blow the car's windscreen out and take another huge chunk out the driver's head before he ran her down, throwing her onto another car's bonnet; the back of her skull connected with the parked car's windscreen, stoving the glass in, and she left a good-sized dent in the bonnet.

She staggered to her feet just in time to see the car that presumably had Nabiki in it's boot tearing into a side-street. A yell from the direction of the brothel made her decide getting out of here might be a good idea; she staggered away, dripping blood, the car's numberplate and the brothel's address fresh in her dazed mind along with the fact that Ranma was going to be _furious_.

**---End Chapter---**

AN – Blargh. Having a fight beating the next few chapters of _Lunatic Scientist_ into shape, but this is ready, so...

I am not exactly very familiar with any of the Naruto characters, having only seen a few random episodes, so if my characterisation of Kakashi is all over the place – altaverse, right? I'm not hugely enamoured with the Naruto anime, but I should be able to make some sort of use of some of the cast.

The Tenchi crowd are partially a cameo, but they're also there for use further down the line. When I started working on this fic, I had five mutually exclusive ideas for the Tenchi cast and no idea which to use, and in the process of writing last chapter I hit on and used a sixth.

Well, that's me then.

Doghead Out.


	14. Chapter 12

This ain't no self-insert fic

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

--

_Jesus lived his life in a cheap hotel_

_On the edge of Route 66 yeah_

_He lived a dark and twisted life_

_And he came right back just to do it again_

_Eye for an eye and a tooth for the truth_

_I ain't never seen a demon warp deal'n_

_A ring-a-ling rhythm or a juke-box racket_

_My mind can't clutch the feeling_

--

As the Amazon gun trucks rolled through Nerima, they were for the main part only favoured with the odd disinterested here-we-go-again glance. That wouldn't be the case anywhere else in Tokyo, but your average Neriman, on seeing gaudily-decorated trucks with suspicious shapes attached here and there, immediately assumed it to be just the latest unexpected 'guests' for the Tendos. In Nerima, semi-psychotic weirdoes with more martial arts than common sense are just business as usual, much the way traffic jams are in the rest of Tokyo – just one of the unpreventable hazards of life.

There were of course the normal few exceptions to the ignore-it-and-assume-it's-Soun-Tendo's-problem rule:

The first exception was a young man known to the world as Satoshi, who frowned behind his sunglasses, ceased loitering outside a strip joint, and proceeded at once towards the Tendo dojo, much to the relief of the bouncers, who'd been becoming a bit disturbed by the presence of the spiky-haired trenchcoat-clad mirrorshaded one; bad news like armed goths travels fast.

The second was an off-duty professional murderer called Ryuunosuke Sakamoto, who was having a drink at a local beer garden. He looked faintly concerned and contacted his boss.

The third was one of those martial arts lunatics; a dark-haired young man with weird yellow eyes and a permanent intense expression, who was lurking on the roof of a coffee shop and obsessing about splattering his elder brother; on sighting the gun trucks, his immediate reaction was to extract a cellphone from his utility vest and make a brief phone call to an elderly ninja with whom he shared one name. He then high-tailed it for the safehouse his team leader had assigned as a meeting point for he and his teammates, aware that his team leader would be paging the others right about now.

The fourth was a rather shot-up purple-haired girl who was staggering along clutching a Kalashnikov-clone and bleeding; she swore vehemently in a thick Irish accent and tried to stagger faster.

The fifth was a lesbian goth called Kaori Sonoda, who looked worried and ran like Hell for the Tendo dojo, achieving a much greater turn of speed than one would expect from anything that wasn't motorised and probably capable of flight.

And the sixth was a local doctor by the name of Ono Tofu, who was walking down the street in the general direction of his medical practise. He sighed, unearthed his cellphone, and dialled the Tendo dojo.

"Morning. Oh, hi Akane, it's Doctor Tofu. Is your dad in? I think the latest dojo destroyer just hit town."

In Nerima, 'normal' is a relative term.

--

**Disclaimer: Look, I know the supernatural is something that isn't supposed to happen – but it **_**does**_** happen…**

--

**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**Preread by KuroNeko**

**Hosted by Studio Asynjor**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

--

**Chapter 12: First Blood part 1**

**(In which a flame becomes a fire)**

A telephone rang.

A hand emerged from the tangle of bedding and Ethernet cables; a head peered woozily from between pillow and sleeping bag, blinked sleep-fogged eyes at the phone, then cautiously picked it up.

"Glrmph?"

"Gos, it's Satoshi." Came a voice the hacker hadn't been expecting. "There's bad news just hit town, and odds are it's heading for the boss-lady's place."

Gosunkugi blankly contemplated the phone for a few moments. He then picked up a can of Red Bull, slugged the whole thing down, and started coming back to a state vaguely resembling compus mentus.

"I'll be there in…" He glanced at the clock on the nearest computer. "Ten minutes, give or take."

"Thanks. I'm contacting the others."

"Yeah." Gos said, worming out of what passed for a bed and starting to root around in the pile of clothing on the floor, trying to find something arguably not that dirty. "Right. I'll be there."

He hung the phone up, struggled into a pair of trousers he'd only worn for two days, paused, pulled them back off, critically examined three different sets of boxers, pulled the chosen pair on, nailed another can of energy drink and finished getting dressed.

That done, he picked up his laptop bag, opened it, opened the secret compartment, checked the Glock had a full compliment of hollowpoint ammunition, stowed his laptop in the bag and hurried out, shoving on a pair of sunglasses as he went; he conscientiously locked the door of his basement apartment on the way out, glanced around to make sure nobody was watching, and sloped off down the street, tucking a clove cigarette into the corner of his mouth as he went.

--

Unlike the semi-nocturnal hacker, Hiroshi and Daisuke were wide awake. They were relaxing in Daisuke's car, feet up on dashboard, windows rolled down, Apoptygma Berzerk pumping from the stereo, the newly-installed neons pulsing to the beat, engaging in the fine art of babewatching.

It was a warm and balmy summer day, school was out, and the girls were on the street in force.

So they were justifiably a little annoyed when Daisuke's phone rang. He tugged it out his pocket, turned the stereo down, and said, "Yo, talk to me."

"Dai, it's Satoshi. Roshi with you?" Daisuke immediately recognised the tone in the mirrorshade-wearing one's voice, and sat up.

"Yeah, what's going down?" Hiroshi recognised the tone in Daisuke's voice, and took his feet off the dashboard.

"I think Xian Pu's colleagues have come to pay a little visit." Satoshi said. Daisuke's hand dropped to the ignition keys, and the Subaru roared into life.

"I'm at the edge of Juuban." Daisuke said. "I'll be there in ten minutes tops."

"Right." Satoshi replied, and hung up. Daisuke stuffed the phone back into his pocket, switched CD's, tapped skip a few times, turned the volume up to full blast, glanced over his shoulder, and did a reverse J-turn into the sparse traffic.

"What's happening?" Hiroshi yelled.

"Trouble at Akane's place." Daisuke yelled back, and put the hammer down. All four wheels bit down hard, and the Impreza leapt forwards with a howl of burning rubber and a roar from the engine, barely audible over the harsh tones of Ministry's 'Jesus Built My Hot-Rod' blasting from the stereo.

There was no point trying to talk; no human sound could stand up to this.

--

Yuka and Sayuri were aimlessly ambling down the street, looking for some sort of trouble to get into. Their mistress hadn't demanded their attendance today, and so they were drifting along, looking for either something to catch their eyes in a shop's windows or maybe a few trendies to get in a fight with.

They were somewhat nonplussed when Daisuke's car went flying past, all four wheels lifting off the ground as it crested a rise, the voice of Gibby Haynes ranting at incredible volume from the boot. Daisuke obviously saw them since he slammed on the brakes, spun the car round, and skidded to a halt beside them, flicking the volume down to a sane level as the car came to a halt.

"Get in quick – trouble at Akane's!" the youngest Shinohara shouted, and the two girls scrambled into the back seats of the Impreza without question; Daisuke turned the volume back up, hauled the wheel over to full lock, and hammered the throttle to the floor, nearly losing control as he spun the car back round.

Then they were off like a low-flying rocketship, the ringing of Sayuri's phone completely inaudible due to the roar from the stereo as the girls struggled to get their seatbelts into place.

--

Kaori arrived first. She skidded back to a humanly possible pace as she exited Dog Shit alley, and proceeded cautiously towards the Tendo dojo, keeping a sharp eye out for trouble as she went. Everything seemed quiet; she could hear the grumble of a large engine ticking over. That would be either Kasumi or Genma, probably doing something oily to the respective vehicle. It didn't sound quite right for the Corvette, so she guessed that it was the V8-engine-with-wheels that Genma Saotome called a motorbike.

Cautiously checking round the corner of the gateway, her guess was confirmed by the sight of the flabby biker noodling with his monstrosity's timing. A glance around confirmed a distinct lack of other activity, so she sauntered into the garden, keeping a sharp eye out for Amazons.

"Mornin'." Genma grunted, seeing her approach.

"Morning." She said.

"Oh, hey Kaori, sup?" Akane asked, sticking her head out the French windows.

"Saw a couple of Amazon gun trucks heading this way." Kaori said. Genma immediately sat up and paid attention.

"Gun trucks?" Ranma asked, slouching out of the house. "Here? Hey, how come ya know what onea them is?"

Kaori snorted. "You'd be surprised how much information about the Amazons there is on the Internet." She smoothly lied. "You just need to work out where to look."

Genma gave her a sideon slit-eyed expression.

"Huh. Right." Ranma grunted. "Hey Dad, I gotta borrow th' fucker."

Genma nodded, removed his bike's seat, picked up the slightly decrepit old German machine gun that lurked therein, and handed it to Ranma along with a belt of ammunition.

"Don't splurge it." Genma advised. Ranma grunted, loaded the MG3 up giving the scored and drilled slugs a slightly quizzical look, shrugged, slung the gun on his shoulder, and ambled back into the house.

Kaori frowned and sniffed at something, then turned a shocked look on Genma. "Wolfsbane?"

Genma nodded. "In th' tips. Chances are we're gonna need it."

"You are one _cold_ bastard."

"True, but ya know what? That's why I'm still breathin'."

--

"Mistress Kodachi, they are about to arrive."

Kodachi jumped slightly and turned round from where she'd been contemplating her reflection. Kakashi was leaning on the doorframe and watching her with his sole visible eye.

She paused, and glanced back at the mirror, then at Kakashi, then at the mirror again, and a shocked expression spread itself across her face.

"Kakashi, how come you have no reflection?"

The ninja let out an amused chuckle, and she watched him in the mirror as he stepped out of behind the doorframe. "My apologies; I was ducking back each time you turned."

Kodachi gave him a slightly peeved look, and rose to her feet. "Back on track; I presume you mean the Amazons have been sighted approaching the Tendo dojo, correct?"

"Indeed." Kakashi said.

"Then perhaps we should proceed." Kodachi stated, and headed towards the main stairs down to the foyer. "I believe we should go by car; appearances must be maintained, after all."

Kakashi looked at her apparel, and gave her a quizzical look. She was dressed in tight jeans, a plain black T-shirt and hiking boots, and as she arrived in the foyer she selected her brown leather flying jacket (an authentic Japanese airman's jacket from the Second World War, it had been worn in action by her grandfather) and shrugged it on.

"I shall require the family wakizashi." She said, imperiously extending a hand; a moment passed, and it was placed in her grip by a servant only Kakashi saw.

Kodachi contemplated the ancient weapon for a long moment, then carefully slid it through her belt.

"I find your choice of clothing… intriguing." Kakashi remarked as they stepped out into the courtyard.

Kodachi sniffed haughtily.

"We are about to visit Amazon warriors." She stated. "I am making a few little assumptions here, partially based on the appearance of that Wolf person. Firstly, I suspect that Amazon women carry weaponry as a matter of course, and therefore so shall I. And secondly, I do not believe formal clothing would in the least bit impress them." She turned back round, and smiled slightly as the family car (a Rolls-Royce Silver Seraph) drew to a halt in front of her. To her eyes, the car appeared to be driverless; Kodachi was used to that, and just as used to the way the door seemed to open itself.

Kakashi handed her into the back seat, and slid into the other side. He'd always been puzzled by Kodachi. She was a bit of an enigma; one minute jumping at shadows, the next one _seriously_ centred kid. He was impressed by the leaps of reasoning she'd made from one brief look at an Amazon warrior; with almost no hard information, she'd arrived at precisely the right conclusion.

"To the Tendo dojo." She commanded, and the car began to move.

Just as the car was turning into the street, there was an earth-shaking roar of industrial metal rock music and a black rally-spec Subaru Impreza flew past like a cat with a rocket up it's ass; there was a scream of tyres as the Impreza did an impressive handbrake turn into the next street, and Kodachi looked faintly startled.

"… I believe that was one of Akane Tendo's friends." She said.

"Something tells me we're not the only ones who're alert to the approach of certain Amazons." Kakashi remarked.

--

Daisuke was pushing the Impreza as hard as he dared. He knew the car had plenty more to give than this, but as a relatively inexperienced driver with a monstrously powerful vehicle, he wasn't stupid enough to try it.

After all, 'Goth' doesn't automatically mean 'Death wish'.

The Impreza flashed past the Kuno manor, narrowly missing the white Rolls-Royce that was pulling out the Kuno's driveway; he frowned slightly as he took the next turning with the Impreza going sideways. He had to wonder where the Kunos were off to, and which Kuno was riding in that car.

He slung the wheel over to the left and erupted out of the cross-street, finding another sight he hadn't been expecting; a pair of gaudily-decorated ex-army trucks of some sort proceeding in the same direction as he was at a somewhat more sedate pace.

Daisuke Shinohara wasn't exactly a genius, but then it didn't take Steven Hawkings to work out that the duo of armed-looking trucks had something to do with Satoshi's worried phone call.

"Shit." He muttered, and gave the car a bit more gas.

--

Cougar blinked as the black car with the blue glow underneath and the insanely loud music streaked past the gun trucks, fishtailing wildly as it exploded out of a side-street like a bullet from a gun. All of a sudden, the Isuzu Trooper they'd hired had some serious competition in the vehicles-Cougar-wanted stakes; the Amazon skinhead was an itinerant speed demon.

"Someone looks like they're having fun." Dowel remarked as the Impreza vanished into a cross-street with a scream of tortured tyres and a cloud of rubber smoke.

Cougar nodded and swung the wheel across to the right, turning into the same cross-street as the Impreza had taken.

"I want one." She said.

--

Turning the corner of Dog Shit Alley and onto Furinkan Avenue, Hikaru Gosunkugi momentarily stopped with a bemused blink.

The Tendo dojo had acquired several extra vehicles. Daisuke's car was parked at a funny angle at the end of four arrow-straight lines of burnt rubber just the far side of the gateway. A pair of wildly decorated three-axle trucks were parked a bit up the street from the dojo, and the Rolls-Royce he recognised as belonging to the Kunos was just pulling to a halt outside the gates of the dojo compound. Satoshi was leaning against one gatepost with his hands sunk deep into his pockets, and a gaggle of young women with brightly-hued hairdye, camouflage clothing and intricately decorated black leather bodysuits were just disembarking from the duo of trucks.

Something about the scene seemed off, in particular the lack of a driver in the Rolls. Gosunkugi frowned, fished around in his laptop bag, unearthed his home-made thermograph goggles, and put them on. The something immediately became apparent: not only were there two persons seated in the front of the Rolls, one of them holding a sub-machine gun, who were apparently transparent to the visible wavelengths of light, there were also a trio of equally invisible persons Gosunkugi didn't recognise loitering on the sidewalk opposite the Tendo's gateway.

"Spotted them, I take it?" Satoshi remarked as the hacker came to a halt beside him.

Gosunkugi nodded. "Some form of optical camouflage? Or perhaps they're bending light around themselves; I fail to identify any other possible methods of achieving even partial invisibility."

"Thermograph goggles?" The guy who was letting Kodachi out the car checked. "I'm impressed."

Gosunkugi raised the goggles, checked the guy was visible, and lowered them again. "Since the first time one of our distant ancestors picked up a rock and used it to bash a rival's skull in, the primary survival technique of the human species has been the selective application of technology. I lack the training of a martial artist, therefore I selectively apply available technology to the problem of the continued survival of myself and my comrades; there is a term for a defenceless person in Nerima, and that term is 'victim'." He withdrew to stand beside Satoshi.

"Woz th' fug?" Ranma grunted, emerging from the gates; he was holding a sizeable machine gun in one hand the way most people would hold a small pistol. Ranma obviously noticed the gunman in the Rolls' front seat, because he casually aimed the loud end of his machine gun that way.

"Hey Kodachi, mebbe ya better tell th' guy ridin' shotgun in yer car ta stop pointin' that subgun at Akane's mates, cuz if he don't mebbe I'm gonna blow him outta th' driver's door."

Kodachi gave the white-haired guy a sharp look. "I do not appreciate people threatening my friends, irrespective of purpose, Kakashi. Rectify it." The subgunner immediately lowered his weapon, glancing at the white-haired guy who was presumably named Kakashi. Ranma grunted and hefted the machine gun onto his shoulder.

"Consider it rectified, mistress." Kakashi said.

The remainder of the Goth Squad, along with Genma Saotome, chose that moment to emerge from the gates.

"Woah, full 'ouse." Genma grunted, vigorously scratching his arse. "Oi, Kakashi, what're _you_ doin' here?"

"Escorting Mistress Kodachi." Kakashi said.

"Huh, funny, didn't know ya work fer th' Kunos."

"Hi, Kodachi. Sup?" Akane asked.

"Don't look now, we gotten inbound Amazons." Ranma said, jerking his head in that direction.

"Now that's what I call timing." Satoshi remarked.

"What's with the goggles?" Daisuke asked Gosunkugi.

"Thermograph." Gosunkugi said. "There are several persons in the area who are currently transparent to the visible wavelengths of light. Two in the front of the Rolls-Royce, another three across the street; all are armed. Their failure to take into account the infra-red wavelengths of light is a grave error, and one I am fully able to take advantage of."

"Give us a shot of those goggles." Akane remarked. Gosunkugi pulled them off and handed them to her; she pulled them on and had a glance around.

"Heckler and Koch MP5SD's." She said. "Not sure about the exact model."

By this time, Genma and Ranma had interposed themselves between the goths and the approaching Amazons.

"Waddya want?" Ranma grunted, almost but not quite aiming his machine gun at said group.

"I have a message from Elder Mi Soon of Joketsuzo for your wife, Xian Pu O'Conner." The pink-haired girl at the head of the small formation of Amazons said.

"Well she ain't here, she's out on business." Ranma grunted. "So yer just gonna haveta give yer message ta me."

"I believe we shall wait for her return." The tawny-haired giantess who was just behind the pink-haired girl stated, giving Ranma a look like he'd just crawled out a crack in the pavement.

"Tiger, _stop it_." The pink-haired girl said, giving the giantess an annoyed look. "We're trying to _get help_ from these people, not _piss them off_."

The giantess subsided, muttering darkly.

"I say again, waddya want?" Ranma stated.

"I am Wu Chii of Joketsuzo." The pink-haired girl said. "I have a message for Xian Pu O'Conner."

Ranma cocked his head. "Xian Pu's best mate? Well, like I said, she ain't here right now, so mebbe ya oughtta come in an' wait or somethin', or even do th' _sane_ thing an' tell me what th' fuck ya want before I lose my temper, hey where th' fuck d'ya think yer fuckin' goin'?" The last bit was growled at a tall and slender blonde Amazon, who was very calmly walking past Ranma.

"To speak with Kodachi Kuno and her companions." The girl informed him.

"You people are really starting to piss me off." Ranma remarked.

"Take it easy, son." Genma remarked. "There's more goin' on here than we know."

"Dad, do us all a big favour and **shut the fuck up**."

"No." Genma growled, turning his attention to Wu Chii. "As ya probably know, this is Soun Tendo's land, an' it ain't polite ta shit around in someone else's stompin' ground. Ya got two choices here. Ya can leave them weapons in yer wheels, come inside, an' tell my son an' Soun Tendo exactly what th' fuck ya want an' ya better be tellin' the fuckin' truth cuz ya ain't gonna fool me. Or ya can turn round, get back in yer fuckin' trucks, get th' fuck outta Nerima, an' go back ta yer fuckin' village in th' sticks. So what's it gonna be?"

Wu Chii considered that for a long moment.

"Leave your weapons in the trucks." She instructed. "Cousin Mu Tze, you and your students had probably better stay behind, I don't think we've got room in the trucks for all your weapons. The rest of you, stick 'em in the trucks and come with me."

--

As the group of Amazons tried to settle themselves in the Tendos living room twenty minutes later, Akane noticed something that intrigued her.

The last time she'd noticed someone with the sort of body language they were displaying was Sayuri on the occasion she had made her girlfriends spend the entire schoolday naked (aside, of course, from their collars) after one of the occasions they'd managed to really tee her off. The Amazons had the exact air of nervous embarrassment you'd only really expect in someone finding themselves positively indecent in a very public place, assuming that someone wasn't an exhibitionist like, say, Yuka.

"Noticed it?" she asked in a sotto voice, leaning over so Sayuri could hear.

"They're acting like they're starkers." Sayuri agreed.

She hadn't been quite quiet enough. One of the men with the group of Amazons, a short somewhat stocky pale guy with an oddly familiar face, chuckled quietly and shook his head.

"The only way an Amazon woman is indecent is if she's unarmed." He said. Likewise, there was something oddly familiar about his voice.

"Weirdoes." Sayuri remarked.

Akane gently bopped her on the head. "Remember you're sat on the lap of someone who takes a half-inch-calibre handgun to bed."

"Yeah, but which would you feel worse without?" Satoshi asked, obviously finding all this funny.

"My gun." Akane unhesitantly informed him. "Without clothes, okay, it'd be a bit chilly. Without a gun, I couldn't drill any dweeb who got funny ideas."

Tiger glared at her, but got distracted when Soun stepped into the room, closely followed by Genma.

"Tiger. It's been a while." Soun said, inclining his head.

"Lord Asinara." Tiger replied, giving most of her audience a serious surprise by dropping to her knees.

"What the hell?" Akane murmured, soft enough that only Yuka and Sayuri caught it; however, Micheru could apparently lip-read since she shrugged.

"Take a seat, Tiger." Soun said, settling himself in his armchair. "So, what brings a Joketsuzoku Enforcer to Nerima?"

"You are aware of the schism within the ranks of Clan Joketsuzoku?" Tiger checked, to which Soun nodded. "That schism has reached the critical point. I believe we will be looking at faction war within the next six months."

Soun nodded. "So Red was right; I knew it couldn't be far off. And in what way does this involve my people?"

"Respectfully, it does not." Tiger said. "However, I understand that Xian Pu O'Conner and her husband will be key players in all this… Lord Asinara, may I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"I had understood that Clans Saotome and Asinara were enemies." Tiger said.

"No." Soun stated. "My late unlamented father was Battlemaster Son Wukong's self-declared enemy. When the man they call Darth Venger put an explosive bullet in my father's skull, I and Lord Akira parleyed, and arrived at a solution to end the unnecessary bloodshed. My father's tantrum killed more people than make this world their home, more than half of them uninvolved bystanders; I refuse to bear any responsibility for that sort of mindless slaughter. To that end, we arranged a blood union between our Clans."

Tiger let out a low whistle.

"A bold move." She said.

"I know." Soun said. "The fighting had gone too far for a simple armistice; for our peoples to truly accept peace between us, we had to take extreme measures, and there are few measures more extreme than making the child of Akira's heir my heir, thus making our lines _family._"

"I beg your pardon – Lord Akira's _heir_?" Tiger asked.

Soun nodded and jerked a thumb at Ranma. "Him."

"This is all very fascinating, but just _what the hell is going on_?" Ranma asked.

"I see." Tiger said, sounding a bit shellshocked. "You realise this has become a three-way blood union?"

Soun looked a bit startled. "You what?"

"The day Xian Pu O'Conner was born, she was secretly Named as Matriarch Kou Loun's heir." Tiger stated.

"Ah." Soun said.

"Am I gonna haveta repeat myself till I'm blue in the face?" Ranma growled.

"You're not the only one who's been left out the loop." Wu Chii told him.

"That ain't helpin'."

"I think it's time for some explanations, Dad." Akane said.

"Akira wants to be here when we give you kids the talk." Soun told her. "He's about a week away. And anyway, Nabiki deserves to hear this too, and I understand Xian Pu has likewise been kept out the loop."

"She has." Tiger said, nodding. "It is our way."

"Our way as well, Tiger." Soun told her. "Kids say the darndest things. Now, let's talk about your business here in Nerima."

Tiger thought about that for a moment. "I am here at the behest of Elder Mi Soon, who as you know is the leader of the Reformist faction of the Joketsuzoku. She believes it is time to overthrow Kou Loun's order. She also believes that to do so we will need the aid of Ranma Jaku Saotome, and only now do I understand why."

"Then perhaps you'd better talk to Ranma." Soun suggested.

Tiger turned to the seriously narked Saotome heir, who glared back at her.

"Wot?" he growled.

"I suppose Xian Pu has told you what life is like in Joketsuzo." Tiger said.

"Short, violent, nasty." Ranma grunted.

"… and I suppose that would be a yes." Tiger muttered. "Very well; I will state the Reformist case. Many millennia ago, a set of laws were laid down for all peoples of our kind. Over the years, Kou Loun and her cronies have manipulated and bastardised those laws. I believe they have lost track of the reason that they became rulers, and instead rule for power alone; I am not alone in that belief, though admittedly I am unusual in that so far I have managed to conceal my beliefs and work to sabotage their tyranny from the inside. I once wholeheartedly believed that their might was by right, that the old ways – their ways – were the best. Then fourteen years ago I was ordered to execute my own mother. I think you can understand what this led to."

"So, waddya want wiv me?" Ranma asked.

"Although you have been raised unaware of it, you have considerable political power." Tiger told him. "As per your ancestor's request, I will not elaborate; I will merely say that, with your support, it will present Kou Loun a setback that I do not believe she will properly account for until it is far too late."

Ranma nodded slowly.

"Huh." He muttered, glancing at his father; Genma nodded. Ranma glanced at Micheru; she shrugged.

There were a few moments silence as he composed his thoughts, then he stood up and levelled a steady look at the massive Amazon.

"Well, I'll give you a provisional yes." He said. "Before I commit, I'll need to hear what Xian Pu has to say about this; she's even more involved than I am."

"Understood." Tiger replied with a nod.

"I think you can get your weapons while you wait." Soun remarked. "Just one last thing though, Tiger."

"Yes?"

Soun contemplated her for a long moment.

"Xian Pu O'Conner is under the protection of Clan Asinara." He said. "She is the first wife of Ranma Saotome, who is to marry one of my daughters; therefore she is family; thy kin ye guard 'em, let no thing harm 'em. Although ye rule 'em, also ye serve 'em."

Tiger nodded.

"Understood."

--

Dr Tofu turned the corner into the back-alley that served as a shortcut to the street upon which his clinic stood, and very nearly ran someone down. Years of training allowed him to avoid the collision, but in doing so he noticed four rather interesting things about the young lady in question.

Firstly, she was short, slightly stocky, had exceptionally pale skin, and her voluminous quantity of hair was dyed purple.

Secondly, she was clutching a Russian assault rifle in one hand.

Thirdly, she was bleeding profusely from what looked like multiple gunshot wounds, and her breathing was coming in short ragged bursts.

And fourthly, she was leant against the wall and very slowly falling over.

The apology for nearly walking into her died unspoken on the good doctor's lips as she slumped against a rubbish bin and went sprawling in the dirt, her only sign of awareness her vice-like grip on the rifle.

Dr Tofu crouched down beside her and checked her pulse. It was abnormal, indicating that she'd lost a lot of blood.

Whoever she was, she'd pushed her body too hard, taken too much damage and tried to keep going, and now she was fading fast.

The doctor pushed his sight into the ki ranges, and found one more thing about the horribly injured girl that threw him the rest of the way into emergency mode; it wasn't one person dying in the street, it was three. She was about seven weeks pregnant, the mother-to-be of twins.

Moving as fast as he dared and shifting her body as little as possible, he carried her round to his clinic and inside. Normally he'd have run to the clinic, got his emergency kit, called an ambulance on his way back, and done what he could to stabilise her while waiting for the paramedics to arrive, but there were three things that meant he couldn't. Firstly, the presence of that assault rifle, which she still had her hand clenched on the pistol grip of. Secondly, her ki aura; she wasn't human, and medicine designed for a human would likely do more harm than good. And thirdly, the bone pendant on it's leather throng at her throat. He recognised it; whoever the shot-up purple-haired girl with the AK might be, she was a Joketsuzoku Amazon.

That meant that first off she was probably in Japan illegally, second off she was almost certainly a wanted woman in China, and third off if she ended up in a normal Japanese hospital she'd be extradited back to a regime that would torture her and then execute her, taking great glee in killing her unborn children in the process.

And Dr Ono Tofu was not going to let that happen.

**--End Chapter--**

AN –

And another chapter down.


	15. Chapter 13

Bright is the moon high in starlight

**This ain't no self-insert fic.**

**This ain't no slash fic neither.**

**This is Top Dog.**

--

_Bright is the moon high in starlight_

_Chill in the air cold as steel tonight_

_We shift_

_Call of the wild_

_Fear in your eyes_

_It's later than you realized…_

--

"So do you have an answer for Mother?"

Kodachi turned round, and found Wolf stood there giving her an unreadable look; the blonde Amazon was leaning against the Tendo's perimeter wall with a cigarette tucked into the corner of her mouth.

"Indeed." Kodachi said. "I and my family's retainers will give you what assistance we are able to. I must, however, advise you to avoid contact with my father and my brother; both have gone stark staring insane in the years since my mother's death."

Wolf inclined her head. "Unfortunate, but such things are sadly common among the weaker-willed gender; in time you'll find men are usually pretty screwed-up puppies. The situation in Joketsuzo is becoming untenable; Mother has decided to act now before it's too late." She grinned humourlessly. "To that end, we are in Tokyo to solicit the assistance of your own people, and of Ranma Jaku Saotome."

"Where does he come in to this?" Kakashi asked, sounding startled.

"He recently married the Joketsuzoku Heir." Wolf stated. "I overheard a discussion between Cougar and Fox on our way here, and it seems there is some kind of prophecy; what I know is merely conjecture, but I understand Mother believes he may have something to do with it."

"So, what's the plan?" Kodachi asked.

Another of those terrible humourless grins spread across Wolf's face.

"We're getting the Reformist Joketsuzoku _out_ of there with everything that isn't nailed down, even if we had to pry the nails out." She said. "Over the coming weeks, almost two thirds of the current population of Joketsuzo will be making their way to this city; approximately three thousand of us, including men and children. We need sanctuary. Kou Loun and her Conservatives _will_ come for us, and they won't _care_ who gets killed in the crossfire. We pose a threat to that mad old woman's thirst for power, and she is willing to go to any length to control Joketsuzo as a nation and the Joketsuzoku as a people. It is fortunate indeed that Hera refuses to act against any descendant of the six founders of Joketsuzo, and that includes most Amazons of any faction."

"Finding accommodation for three thousand Amazons will not be an easy task." Kakashi remarked. "You need to talk to Soun Tendo."

"What's he got?" Wolf asked.

"He owns Nerima outright." Kakashi told her. "With a scattering of exceptions, every building you can have seen since you crossed over from Juuban belongs to Soun Tendo. Every square metre of ground in Nerima belongs to Soun Tendo. The tunnels beneath Nerima belong to Soun Tendo. The roads in Nerima belong to Soun Tendo. Fully a third of the population of Nerima work, directly or indirectly, for Soun Tendo. Every business in Nerima either rents it's premises from Soun Tendo, or belongs outright to Soun Tendo. Even the police in Nerima rent their station from Soun Tendo. Hell," and he gave Kodachi an apologetic look, "Even the Kuno family pay ground rent to Soun Tendo. Money talks, big money speaks the loudest, and big money is what Soun Tendo has." Kakashi shrugged. "I understand he also has money tied up in several heavy manufacturing concerns, here in Japan and in other countries – including, interestingly enough, several concerns in the armaments industry, and a major stake in Shinohara Heavy Industries."

"Ah." Wolf said. "I understand."

"Actually, I am given to understand that the tunnels beneath Nerima belong to _Akane_ Tendo these days." Kodachi remarked.

"In a way." Kakashi said with another shrug. "Though admittedly their undeteriorated state is largely down to us; they're useful."

--

**Disclaimer: Sorry, I'm an atheist, I don't believe in anything and that includes disclaimers…**

--

**Top Dog: Biker Half 2.0**

**Book 1: Birth of a Modern Legend.**

**A Doghead13 / United Galaxies fanfic**

**Written & produced by Calum J 'Doghead13' Wallace**

**Preread by KuroNeko**

**Hosted by Studio Asynjor**

**Brought to you by Hairy Scottish Git Productions, GMBH**

**This is not a drill.**

--

**Chapter 13: First Blood part 2**

**(In which a fire becomes a blaze)**

Right as Kodachi and Kakashi were getting very involved in a conversation with Wolf, a man was casually ambling into the Tendo compound. He'd come sauntering over from where he'd been watching the show from a big black car a couple of blocks up the street, given Tiger (who was loitering in the street) a smug look, and headed straight into the garden.

This man was about five foot eight with long mouse-brown hair in a ponytail, and was dressed in high boots and trenchcoat with cargo trousers and a battered check shirt underneath; he had suspicious bulges right where shoulder holsters would be, and a pair of silver-plated Desert Eagles holstered on his belt.

He glanced around, then casually sauntered into the garden, nodding at Mu Tze as he passed; the half-blind weaponmaster carefully adjusted his spectacles, realised who he was looking at, and had to sit down.

"Who's he?" Ru Ki asked as the amiable-looking chap ambled over to the Tendo's front door and casually knocked.

"Only… only… only…" Mu Tze stammered.

The door opened, revealing a smiling Kasumi, and at about the same time Genma stuck his head out the French windows.

"John!" the grey-haired biker squawked.

"Hey there, Genma. Akira's having to deal with a bit of untidiness over on the border, and I was insystem anyway, had something to look in on over in Scotland, so I thought I'd drop past and check in, see how things are coming on." The man said.

"Magus Kirth." Soun said, having stuck his head round the corner of Genma, a tight squeeze at the best of times. "Come in; welcome to my humble abode. I assume you're here on business?"

"Officially unofficial business." John Kirth said with a wink as Kasumi showed him in; by this time, Genma and Soun had come outside and were coming back into the house behind the brown-haired mage.

"Only John Kirth!" Mu Tze squeaked.

"Yeah, I got that much, but who _is_ he and why'd he make you have to sit down?" Ru Ki prodded.

Mu Tze grinned shakily at her.

"He's one step short of a god." He said. "You know about how the Way of Hidden Weapons became part of the Amazon ways, right?"

"… only vaguely." Ru Ki admitted. "I mean, I know the grand master of the style married into the Joketsuzo hundreds of years ago."

"Well, that's the person who _invented it_." Mu Tze said.

"He doesn't look much like a martial artist." Fox muttered.

"That's because he's not." Mu Tze told her. "He's a mage." He pulled up one sleeve and traced his fingertip along one of the long fine white scars on the back of his arm. "You know about these?"

"Well, yeah." Fox said. All the Amazons were perfectly aware of the first step in learning the Way of Hidden Weapons; to manipulate ki in the necessary manner required assistance, and that assistance came in the form of strips of runic-engraved and ki-charged hardwood implanted under the skin of your forearms and shins.

"It's not much like anything else in the Amazon ways, is it?" Mu Tze said.

"Well, no." Fox admitted.

Mu Tze nodded. "Just my point. These aren't the sort of thing a martial artist would come up with. It took a mage to invent something like this. The wood has to be specially enchanted so your body doesn't reject it, and it has to be made from empowered materials – saplings of a very specific and very rare type of broadleaf, that have been grown from enchanted seeds and had further enchantments woven upon them as they grow. A normal warrior cannot access the place we use to store our arsenals without having the talent of magic; only a modified warrior may do so, and only with careful training and the right tools."

"Goddess, if we stay here in Japan like Wolf was muttering about, I guess we're the last generation of students of the Way of Hidden Weapons." Feng Long muttered.

"Not so." Mu Tze said. "Firstly, those trees were created for my foremothers use by the man who just walked into that house. Secondly, I have seeds and all the things needed to empower the wood. And thirdly, well, why do you think I insisted on Shan Meng staying behind? She's progressed far enough in the Way to properly care for the trees that give us our power. I pray we'll be able to transplant the grove to this foreign soil once the Reform is a reality, but if we cannot or the Elders do something as rash as," and he winced, "Destroy them, then, well, I just hope they'll deign to grow here."

--

"So why's your front garden full to the gunnels with Joketsuzoku clanners then, Lord Tendo?" John Kirth asked, sitting down on the sofa.

"That's complex." Soun said. "There's some kind of schism growing within the Joketsuzoku power structure; I believe we are seeing the beginning of the final collapse."

John sadly shook his head. "Trust Red to be right again; what a waste. Where do your lot come into it?"

"Via your employer's lot." Soun said. John cocked an eyebrow, so the Tendo patriarch elaborated. "You're aware of the Joketsuzoku's marriage-by-combat laws?" John nodded; Soun jerked a thumb at Ranma, who was fiddling with his bike's carburettor and pretending not to listen. "He got in a slight disagreement with the Joketsuzoku Heir, and won the resulting fight."

"Ah." John said. "A three-way blood union; this could get entertaining."

"Ya gotten an annoyin' idea a' entertainin', Kirth." Genma grunted, giving the mage a dour look. His pocket suddenly started making a noise like a very old-fashioned telephone bell. The sort that goes 'Drrring drrring!'. He looked starled, pulled an extremely compact cellphone out of his pocket, gave it a dour look, and answered it.

"H'llo… who th' fuck are ya?... ya fuckin' what?... ya gotta be fuckin' wiv me… shit… Shit… Shit, shit, shit… I read ya… Where are ya?... OK… Nah, ain't far away… Yeah, we'll be there soon."

"Wazzup, Dad?" Ranma asked.

"That wuz some bloke callin' himself Doc Tofu." Genma growled. "He sez he just found yer wife layin' in th' street, she's at his clinic an' she ain't inna good way. He found me phone number in her wallet."

Ranma stared at his disassembled carburettors for a moment. An ignition key flew across the room and landed in his lap; Micheru had just tossed it to him.

"Where?" he said.

Soun reeled off some directions. Ranma nodded, piled onto Micheru's bike, booted it into life, and went blasting off out the garden and away down the street in a cloud of tyre smoke. His helmet was still hanging from his partially-stripped bike's handlebars.

"What's up with him?" Akane asked, sticking her head into the living room. "And who's that?" Her varied cohorts were peering round or over her.

"Apparently Shampoo's at Dr Tofu's clinic, I assume Ranma's heading thataway." Her father told her. "And this is an old… _acquaintance_ of myself and Genma…"

"Jonathon Julian Kirth, Esquire." John said, sketching an idle salute.

"She's at the clinic? What's she doing there?" Akane asked.

"I'm not sure." John said. "But, well, what does one normally do at a clinic?"

"It's a place you go to when – SHIT! Nabiki!" Akane gasped.

"What's wrong with Nabiki?" Soun asked, sitting bolt upright.

"Oh shit, we were talking about that cop pal of hers who got murdered and she took off to talk to someone, she wouldn't say who, and Ranma got Shampoo to tail her!" Akane told her father.

Soun's face fell; he glanced at Kirth, who frowned, fished a map and pendulum out of his pockets, and started dangling the pendulum over the map.

"One of your daughters, correct, Lord Asinara?" he asked.

"Indeed, my second-to-youngest daughter, Nabiki Tendo." Soun growled.

John frowned.

"Someone's blocking me." He said. "She's somewhere in Tokyo, but I can't get a fix on her."

Soun crashed to his feet and then gave Akane and the goths a sincere shock; he hurried over to the side of the living room with the Shinto shrine to the memory of Kimiko Tendo, pressed his finger firmly into a knothole on the base of the shrine, and rotated the portrait of his dead-but-not-quite-gone wife through ninety degrees clockwise. There was a whirr and click, and the entire shrine rose off of the floor. Soun calmly opened the curtains that shrouded it's legs, and Akane was decidedly surprised to see that a gun rack had risen out of the floor.

He selected a weapon – an FN FAL battle rifle with an M203 underslung grenade launcher attached to it, that as it happens Okuno at TMPD's ballistics lab would have been most interested to examine in light of the destruction of a certain Korean restaurant – very calmly loaded it, selected a bandolier of grenades and rifle magazines, loaded a round into the launcher, checked the safety on both rifle and launcher, then placed weapon and ammunition on the table and picked up the phone.

"Help yourself, Genma." He said. "I've got to make a few phone calls."

Genma grunted, glanced over the rack of weapons, and withdrew an M1 Thompson sub-machine gun with a satisfied noise.

"While since I seen onea _these_." He said.

"Daddy, why've you got this kind of weaponry?" Akane asked, peering at the small arsenal and only just managing not to drool. Was that an M60? Oooh, MP5's with drum magazines, sexy, and – crikey, a Stinger?

"Home defence." Soun said. "My father's brains were blown out all over the doorstep in this house; I feel safer knowing I have a little firepower close to hand."

--

"Hey. You the doc?"

Dr Tofu looked up from what he'd been doing, which was in fact going through his contact list looking for someone who might be able to further help the gunshot purple-haired girl who was currently clinging to life by a thread in his operating theatre, and found himself confronted by a sizeable wild-haired leather-clad unshaven lout.

"I am indeed." He said. "Doctor Ono Tofu, at your service. How may I help you?"

"My name's Ranma Jaku Saotome." The young man said, fishing a wallet out of his jacket; he opened it and showed it to Dr Tofu. Beneath the transparent-fronted bit at the front of the place where you'd put credit cards was a photograph of the purple-haired Amazon who was currently in his operating theatre; she was holding a decrepit electric guitar and grinning enthusiastically at the camera.

"I heard you seen this girl." Ranma stated.

"Why would that be of interest to you?" Dr Tofu asked.

"Her name's Xian Pu O'Conner." Ranma stated. "She's a Joketsuzoku Amazon and she happens to be my wife."

"I see." Dr Tofu said, rising to his feet. "She is not in a good way, Mr Saotome; she's been shot several times, lost a lot of blood, and she has several broken ribs, one of which has punctured her left lung."

"Is she gonna be okay? Is the baby gonna be okay?" Ranma asked, fear easily audible in his voice, instantly convincing Dr Tofu that he did indeed care about Xian Pu.

"I honestly cannot say." He said. "I've done what I can to help her, but like any immature werecreature, her body's chemistry is different enough to that of a human that conventional surgery techniques would likely do her more harm than good."

"Waddya mean, werecreature?" Ranma growled.

Dr Tofu blinked, faintly startled. "You didn't know? Odd."

"Spill it."

The good doctor nodded.

"Certainly. The short version is, humans such as myself are the new kids on the block. The real rulers of this world are shapeshifters such as yourself and your wife. No need to look at me like that; you are major news to everyone on Earth who's in the know. You're the heir apparent to rulership of one of the biggest shapeshifter Clans – the basic socio-political unit of your species' civilisation – and you were Named as Heir due to a prophecy, the exact wording of which has been kept a closely-guarded secret."

"So I'm not human." Ranma muttered; he glared at his hand for a moment. "Fine; that'll be why my brother can chuck a Hummer. Whatever, what I wanna know is if this is gonna help Xian Pu."

"Quite possibly, yes." Dr Tofu confirmed with a nod. "It should be possible to induce her to First Change – develop the ability to shapeshift – early, causing her enhanced powers of healing to become active at the same time, but I don't have the expertise to do that."

"What sorta people would?" Ranma asked. "How about, say, an Amazon Healer?"

"Definitely, if of course we could find an Amazon Healer we could trust."

Ranma considered that for a few moments, then suddenly smirked.

"Am I right that wolfsbane screws up shapeshifters?"

"Indeed. It interferes with the hormones associated with shapeshifting and regeneration." The doctor confirmed with a nod.

Ranma's smirk became downright nasty.

"Well, it just so happens that a buncha Amazons rolled inta town half an hour ago, and I know they've got a healer with 'em; recognised the insignia." He pulled his spare magazine out of his pocket, and flipped it round so Dr Tofu could see what was sealed into the hollow points of the slugs. "And it's amazing what people will do at pistol-point."

"I will not have violence within my establishment." Dr Tofu flatly stated.

Ranma shrugged. "I ain't gonna pull the trigger, killing this healer wouldn't do Xian Pu much good, but what the Amazons don't know won't hurt my wife."

The doctor considered that for a moment, worked out what Ranma was saying – that he didn't plan on carrying through with his threat, but he planned on making the Amazons think he was willing to carry through with it – then accepted that with a nod.

"Very well." he said.

Ranma nodded, then frowned. "Hey, can I use yer phone?"

--

"Hello, Tendo dojo, Soun Tendo speaking."

"Tendo, it's Ranma." came a familiar smoke-roughened voice. "I'm at the doc's place. Xian Pu's been shot a bunch of times, and she's in a bad way. Find out if them Amazons got a healer with 'em, and if so get 'em the Hell round here – the doc says he don't know if she's gonna make it."

"Understood. We'll be there sharpish." Soun said; Ranma grunted something that might have been supposed to be a 'good', and banged the phone down.

Soun turned to John Kirth.

"That was Ranma. He says the Joketsuzoku Heir had been gunshot."

"From your tone I guess she's pre-Change." John said.

Soun nodded, and hurried outside.

Tiger looked up from where she'd been interestedly listening in on Mu Tze's conversation with his students as soon as she noticed Soun hurrying out the house and making a beeline for her.

"Is there a problem, Lord Asinara?" she asked.

"Xian Pu O'Conner has been taken to a local doctor's clinic." Soun told her. "I understand she is badly injured; she's been gunshot."

Tiger went rather pale.

"Gui Mei, I believe you are needed." She called over to where the white-haired girl was leaning against a tree and jawing with Mao Xing.

"What? What's happening?" the healer asked, hurrying over.

"It's Xian Pu." Tiger said. "She is seriously injured."

"Shit – we'd better move it!"

"Follow me." John Kirth commanded, making haste towards his car – an immaculate black 1959 DeSoto, which was parked just up the street.

"Mao Xing, you had better go too." Tiger said to the mechanic as they hurried towards the gates.

"What's happened?" He asked.

"I'm afraid it's your sister." Tiger told him. "She's been shot."

"Oh Goddess no…"

The car came to life with a roar as the two Amazons were still scrambling into it; Mao Xing nearly didn't get the door closed in time as John threw the car into gear and trod on the gas.

"What was that about?" Wolf queried, coming ambling over.

Tiger gave her a sharp look.

"The Champion's seriously injured." She said.

"How? Target?" Wolf growled.

Tiger didn't reply for a moment, then gave Wolf a sideon look.

"I don't know." She said. "Yet. All I know is, she's sustained at least one gunshot wound, and we are going to set things straight."

Wu Chii nodded, having been close enough to get the gist. She glanced at Mu Tze, who was staring off into space with a look of blank uncomprehending horror on his handsome face.

"We're going to do what we've got to do." She agreed.

Mu Tze snapped out of it.

"We're going to find whoever dared harm a hair in Xian Pu's head," he hissed, giving his students a flat stare, "And we're going to kill them."

"Well said, lad." Tiger growled.

The relationship between the varied genders, factions, and generations of Joketsuzoku were strained at best, downright hostile at worst. In the past few decades, more Amazons had been killed by other Amazons than by every last one of their many and myriad enemies put together.

But when some outsider harmed one of their own, the reaction was as inevitable as the incoming tide; the Joketsuzoku tooled up, closed ranks, and took the transgressors to bits one piece at a time.

--

As soon as the DeSoto was stationary, Gui Mei was scrambling out with Mao Xing hot on their heels. The two young Amazons rushed into the clinic, and were rapidly ushered into Dr Tofu's operating theatre.

Whereupon they found an obstruction.

"Oi." Said Ranma.

Gui Mei glared at the hulking outsider male who was apparently Xian Pu O'Conner's husband. The great lout was stood in the way, blocking her route to the operating table upon which the injured woman was laying.

"Get out the way." She growled.

Ranma's glare intensified, and he hauled his handgun out of his jacket, dropped the magazine, and damned nearly shoved the mag in her face.

"You know what these do." He said.

"You've got wolfsbane in those things? Dirty." She snapped.

"Whatever works." Ranma bit out. "I wanna make one thing clear; I don't trust you far as I could throw Tokyo Tower." He brandished the magazine. "My wife snuffs it, one of these goes into your head. Got it?"

Gui Mei stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head, her estimates of him creeping up a bit from rock-bottom.

"If she dies, you won't need to shoot me." She said.

"Oh?" Ranma growled.

Gui Mei nodded, finally succeeding in brushing past him.

"There are several tall buildings in this city, and if I screw up on this one I'll take a long walk off a short roof." she said. "It'd be less painful than having to tell Wu Chii I let her best friend die."

She critically examined Xian Pu's various wounds, then sighed.

"Damn. I hate doing this – it's so unnatural. First Change should be a part of the natural progression from child to adult, not some forced thing." She gave Ranma a bad-tempered look. "I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't life-and-death. Now, I suggest both of you _men_ go through to the other room; I'm going to have to open a part of her, and trust me on this much, you can never look at someone quite the same once you've seen their insides."

Ranma let out a disgusted noise.

"I've seen me own guts." He said. "RPK hits in th' abdomen do that, an' I've also slept with a chick who's guts I'd seen… And if you think I'm not going to be here for her, you've got another think coming."

"What he said." Mao Xing said in a small voice.

She nodded, her estimates of Ranma going up again.

"Then please try not to get in the way; time is something that Xian Pu doesn't have much of right now." She said, and started getting her gear out.

--

Ranma watched, simultaneously fascinated and creeped out, as Gui Mei put the final finishing touches to her work. There were several lines of stitching across Xian Pu's chest, including a line between her breasts; her upper torso looked almost like it belonged to some sort of feminine Frankenstein's Monster. Mao Xing had left, looking decidedly green, when Gui Mei had cut the injured girl's chest partially open.

"And now for the moment of truth." Gui Mei softly stated, judiciously adding a little powdered belladonna leaves to the concoction she was mixing in a bowl; she gave it a final stir, scooped a little into an incense burner, lit it, and began carefully wafting the smoke into Xian Pu's face.

"What's this do?" Ranma quietly asked.

"It's the trigger for the way I've temporarily altered the flows of her ki." The Healer explained, keeping her voice soft. "Any moment now…"

Xian Pu began twitching a bit. The moments ticked by; the smoke got thicker in the surgery, then Ranma blinked.

"Huh, didn't think she had that much body hair."

"She didn't." Gui Mei said, the relief very audible in her voice. "It's working."

Xian Pu was by now distinctly shifting about, almost like she was tossing in her sleep; she coughed a couple of times, then her chest made a horrenduous grating squelching noise, and she rolled clean over and fell off the operating table; Ranma caught her as she went into a horrendous coughing fit, hocking up great globs of half-clotted blood and mucous. The whole time, she was getting hairier and hairier; by the time the coughing ended and he laid her back on the table, she had an overall coating of chalky white fur and had noticeably increased in weight.

Her twitching fit was increasing, rapidly becoming wild thrashing, all the while with her muscles and general bulk becoming more and more apparent, until suddenly it all peaked and her body seemed to erupt. Her feet stretched themselves; her hands clubbed up. A tail erupted from between her buttocks; her face thrust itself forwards into a short muzzle.

And, a couple of seconds later, there was what looked like a white version of a leopard (or some-such other not-lion-or-tiger big-cat-with-spots) laying fast asleep on the operating table, with the slightly incongruous additions of the fur round the top, sides and back of it's head being dyed purple.

Gui Mei carefully moved the albino big cat into a more comfortable-looking position, then turned to Ranma with a smile.

"All she needs now is rest." She said. "Maybe you'd better see if you can find out who did this to her; I'll watch over her for you."

Ranma nodded.

"Thanks; I owe ya one." He said, and walked out.

"No you don't." The Amazon healer whispered, gently stroking Xian Pu's fur. "I already have all the thanks I'll ever need."

--

Micheru and Genma had completely reassembled Ranma's carbs by the time he pulled back into the garden. The DeSoto wasn't far behind him, and it had an unusual passenger in the form of a sleeping albino leopard with purple head-fur in the back seats; the Amazons, directed by a very bossy Gui Mei and a startlingly persuasive Kasumi, carried Xian Pu up to the bedroom she was sharing with the Saotomes, and then they began loading the Joketsuzoku Champion's private collection of firearms into said room, this time being bossed around by a shockingly assertive Si Ren.

While all this was going on, Ranma was having a rather bemusing encounter on the lawn. He'd found a tall (by Chinese standards) and muscular young man with long hair, very thick spectacles and white robes. This young man had proceeded to very much get in Ranma's way.

"You're Xian Pu's husband, right?" the guy in white checked.

"That's me." Ranma said with a nod.

The young Amazon male nodded thoughtfully.

"Hang on a moment." He said, and started rooting around in his robes, which Ranma was thinking of as a too-big white trenchcoat.

The Saotome heir watched bemusedly as the young man pulled an assortment of increasingly peculiar items out of his coat; an assortment of cricket bats, a rubber chicken, three different Kalashnikovs, two white mice (which ran off, and Ranma could have sworn one of them went, 'Narf!') a dartboard, various melee weapons, a lobster pot, a huge sack of sporks, a box of old-school German 'potato masher' hand grenades, a lawn chair, a six-pack of Fosters, a huge plush panda, a slightly startled spider monkey, a top hat containing a white rabbit, nearly a dozen white 'trenchcoats', four full jerrycans, an RPG-7 rocket-propelled grenade, an ornate wooden chest adorned with silver filigree, a crate of barbecue sauce, an entire autorickshaw, and finally…

"Ah, there it is."

… an elderly pump-action shotgun.

"Right." The source of the sizeable pile of gubbins said, and worked the pump with obvious glee. "My name's Mu Tze, Master of the Way of Hidden Weapons. You're a lucky bastard, Saotome, and if you break Xian Pu's heart I'll blow your kneecaps off."

"Yup, gotcha." Ranma said, deciding he liked this guy.

"Okay, good, I'm glad we're clear about that." Mu Tze said, sounding like he hadn't been expecting that sort of reaction.

"I guess she means a lot to you." Ranma said.

Mu Tze slumped a bit and started stuffing his assorted junk back into his trenchcoat. "… yeah, you could say that. It's just… shit, she's the best friend I've ever had."

Ranma nodded, leaning back against the side of the gun truck.

"An' from the sound of it, yer beating yerself up fer not bein' there when she got shot up." He said.

"What'd you know about it?" Mu Tze snapped.

"Don't gimme that, man. She's pregnant, th' doc says it's twins, an' I'm th' father." He shook his head. "Didn't know her from Marilyn Monroe when I met her, but th' girl's gotten a way a' growin' onna guy."

"And that's for sure." Mu Tze muttered, finishing stuffing his junk away. He seemed to notice he was still holding the shotgun, gave it a quizzical look, and tucked it up his sleeve; this left just the autorickshaw, which he bemusedly examined. "Where the Hell did I pick _that_ up from…?"

"That's a Burmese numberplate." Ranma pointed out.

"Odd; I've never been within a thousand miles of Burma." Mu Tze said, then shrugged, grabbed the autorickshaw, and somehow managed to stuff it into his coat. "Oh well, at least it means I've got wheels if I need 'em."

"How'd ya do that stuffin' stuff in yer trenchcoat?" Ranma asked.

"Family technique." Mu Tze said. "Fraid it's very secret."

"Fair enough." Ranma said with a nod. "I guess it's similar ta th' weapon manifestation techniques from th' Tendo school a' Anythin' Goes, but I ain't gonna pry."

"Weapon manifestation techniques?" Mu Tze asked, cocking his head. You could almost have stood a spoon up in the awkwardness.

Ranma nodded. "Yeah, check out Akane's practise routine onea these days. It's somethin' her old man developed, basically pullin' weapons outta nowhere… Soun said he designed it so he'd have a sword handy wherever he went, but fer some reason whenever Akane tries she gets an enormous wooden mallet."

"Aha, then it _is_ similar to my techniques, though I know for certain that it is at best an incomplete version." Mu Tze said with a nod. "There's a reason we call the dimensional layer involved 'hammerspace'; most of what's in there is assorted hammers and hammer-like blunt instruments. All my students go through a big-mallet stage, as did I. It'll pass."

"That's what Soun said when I asked." Ranma said, nodding.

"Oi, Ranma." Genma grunted, wandering over with Micheru in tow.

"Wazzup Dad?" Ranma asked.

"Bout that white-haired guy who's wiv th' chick wiv th' duff arm." Genma grunted. "If he pulls his headband offa over his left eye, don't use any secret techniques in front a' him."

"What gives?" Ranma asked.

"Are you saying that's 'Sharingan' Hatake, the Copy-Cat Ninja?" Mu Tze asked, sounding a little perturbed.

Genma nodded. "Yah. Ya can trust him ta do what he says he'll do, but don't trust him not ta nick yer techniques." He lit up a cigarette. "Found that 'un out th' hard way; cheeky bastard nicked half th' Yamasenken before I spotted him bustin' out a Kijin Raishu-Dan."

"Dad, when in the fuck are you going to teach me them things?" Ranma complained.

"They ain't like normal techniques, son." Genma growled. "They're designed purely ta kill. There's _never_ a right time fer _that_."

"Thanks for the heads-up; I suppose I'll return the favour." Mu Tze said, and turned to Ranma and Micheru. "The young male with the long hair and intense expression who was using a visual-light cloaking technique, I recognise from the briefing Elder Mi Soon gave us. His name is Sasuke Uchiha. Supposedly the only survivor of a sizeable dynasty within the Konohakagure ninja clan, though Elder Mi Soon believes there is at least one other surviving Uchiha, possibly as many as five. As an Uchiha, he may or may not have access to an expressed form of the Uchiha family's so-called 'copy wheel eye' mutation. If you see his eyes go red with black markings, don't maintain eye contact and be careful what techniques you use. The first expressed form of the mutation in question confers an ability analogical to photokinetic reflexes, and he will be able to reproduce any techniques he sees while using said form. I've encountered a guy with photokinetic reflexes before; the results were more than a little tense."

"Thanks fer th' heads-up." Genma said with a nod. "Huh, didn't know th' Konohakagure still had an Uchiha… interestin'."

"So they're somethin' like that Copycat Ken guy we ran inta while we wuz over in Thailand, right?" Ranma asked.

"Yeah, but more so." Genma said, nodding. "Pity whoever wasted mosta 'em didn't finish the job."

"Great." Ranma muttered.

"Hey! Fucking pay some fucking attention you fucking fucks! Fuck sake, I coulda fucking iced the whole fucking lot of you fuckers and you'd never have fucking noticed!"

The four whirled round, even Genma, and found a set of pissed-off yellow eyes looking straight at Ranma.

They belonged to a short, flat-chested, buck-toothed, buzzcut-haired, boyish, angry-looking blonde girl dressed in jeans, denim jacket, combat boots, a Sex Pistols T-shirt and a knobbly choker, with the interesting addition of telltale bulges right where shoulder holsters go. She was leaning against the side of the DeSoto.

"Yeah, ya coulda." Genma admitted, sounding frankly impressed.

"You're Ranma fucking Saotome, right?" the girl checked, glaring at Ranma.

"So who wants ta know?" Ranma growled, instantly annoyed.

"For fuck sake, fucking cut the fucking trying to fucking glare fucking holes in my fucking head." The girl snapped. "What the fuck ever, my fucking name's Lydia fucking McKraken if you fucking must fucking know, I'm sticking my fucking neck out for you and your fucking crew, Saotome, so at fucking least fucking try to fucking act fucking grateful. That fucking Nabiki fucking Tendo girl fucking asked the fucking wrong fucking fuckers the fucking wrong fucking questions, and now some fucking seriously fucking unpleasant fucking fuckers fucking got her and she's fucking not fucking having a fucking nice fucking time. My fucking boss fucking thinks I'm fucking being a fucking good little fucking rodent and fucking keeping it to my fucking self, but you fucking know fucking what? I don't fucking like fucking seeing a fucking girl getting fucking fucked over like fucking that and I'm fucking fucked if I'm fucking sitting on my fucking arse and fucking doing fucking fuck all." She tossed him an envelope. "There's what the fuck I can fucking get away with fucking passing to you. The fucking manager of that fucking whorehouse can fucking tell you who the fuck to fucking fuck up, it's his fucking boss, though you're gonna have a fucking time of it fucking getting the fucking fucker to fucking spill the fucking beans."

Ranma digested that, being slightly impressed by how often this young woman was able to insert the word 'fuck' into a sentence.

"Thanks, Lydia." He said.

Lydia smiled for about a picosecond. "You fucking owe me, Saotome. I gotta fucking fuck off before my fucking boss fucking cottons fucking onto what the fuck I'm fucking doing and fucking rips the fucking fuck outta me; no fucking rest for the fucking wicked."

Ranma snorted, and she slipped away into the gathering dusk, seeming to vanish into thin air before she'd so much as exited the garden.

"That is one _helluva_ talented lass." Genma stated.

Ranma snorted again.

"Round th' crew up." He said as he read the contents of the envelope. "We got heads ta break."

**-- End Chapter --**

AN –

OMFG! How in the name of small fuzzy things from Alpha Centauri did I manage to forget to upload chapter 12 for MONTHS? Oh well, then it's a two-chapter update...

Well, it was a long time coming but it's finally here. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised the thirteenth chapter was such a pain in the arse.

John Kirth's car is identical to Spike's car from the Buffy TV series. And yes, he does have a habit of listening to the Sex Pistols while driving. Oh, and you'll get to see what he was 'looking in on over in Scotland' towards the end of 'Harry Johnson and the Deathtrap Girl'.

Yes, John Kirth is rather glaring Gary Stu-fodder (in fact a walking Deus Ex Machinia) and I know it; he's needed for several reasons:

First off, he's one of the primary links between this and the Harry Johnson saga, and I'm not just talking about his brief appearance near the end of 'Headmaster's Socks', he's got a few spanners left to throw into the works over in that neck of the Top Dog woods.

Secondly, the Biker Half crew are going to need a freakishly powerful mage around later on, and he was there as the freakishly-powerful-mage in the original iteration of Biker Half.

And thirdly, like with the Nac Mac Feegle, there are few things that cannot be improved by the addition of freakishly powerful mages.

Cheers,

Cal.


End file.
